TESV Incident
by popeincuba
Summary: When a 20 year anniversary edition of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is released, 18 year old Summer's life goes for a turn for the worse when she learns that the only way out is to beat the game or die. (I do NOT own The Elder Scrolls series, and I do NOT own the Sword Art Online series. All rights go to Bethesda Studios and ASCII Media Works.)
1. Prologue

Prologue to the prologue: Bethesda Studios is bought by Argus, a gaming company that reopened in secrecy eight years after the SAO incident (2031). Their first release was a remake of the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. However, the game makes a turn for the worse when history repeats itself: there is no escape. There is no way to abandon your game without dying or beating the game. What makes this worse than SAO: the game is single player, and since the game is technically unbeatable, there is no known way to escape the game.

The story follows the journey of an eighteen year old girl named Summer, one of the victims of the TESV 20 year anniversary re-release.

* * *

November 11, 2031. Today's the day that Argus was releasing the 20 year anniversary edition of the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. It's supposed to include all the DLC's, more character customization options, and graphics that will be less strainful to the eyes than the 2k10's graphics. Best of all, it's being released on the Amusphere X! I couldn't imanage tying to play it on an old console or computer.

"I'm not getting it," Michael rolls his eyes at me. "Seventy-five quid for a fancier version of a twenty year old game? No thanks. I'll play the online versions of the Elder Scrolls before I play an over-priced single player version."

"But remember that one time we tried out ESO?" I suggest. That game wasn't much more advanced, but it was the first MMO developed for the Elder Scrolls series. There have been two more Elder Scrolls MMO's since then. Elder Scrolls VII: Thras (2020) and Elder Scrolls VIII: Akavir (2026). I've played them, and they are very substantial games.

However, playing Skyrim was one of the greatest experiences I could recall. There was a much more tranquil and simple atmosphere to the game, but it still had an incredible plot. I've spent most of my childhood playing that game after it was a hand-me-down from my brother, who was going away to college in New York.

"That game also sucks," Michael scoffs. We're out at lunch in Tucky's Grill, as a celebration for Michael getting a job as manager of a five star hotel. Michael is 23, four years older than me. He graduated from a university in France studying business and management. I'm still in university, trying to get my degree in digital design.

Ever since Michael left for university, his interest in video games has decreased. We'd always love to play video games together. Then he stopped for a while, after the Sword art Online incident, where all players of the game could only leave if they died in the game (causing them to die in real life) or if they beat the game, which was nearly impossible. His older brother was a victim of the SAO incident. Michael would have been 9 at the time, so I can understand why he became so emotionally corrupt. Michael matured since he was nine, and realized how his brother's adoration to video games cost him his life. He decided it'd be best to find something else to focus on. At least he was focusing on his work and studies rather than something that won't really impact his life, like football or automobiles.

"Well, I guess I'll have to find more people to talk about the game with," I suggest. I know he didn't want to talk about the subject anymore, so I leave twenty pounds on the table. "That should pay for my meal."

"Summer," Michael whines.

"You can pay for my meal next time," I give him a light smile, "I promise."

"We met fifteen years ago and you still give me that stupid grin," he groans.

"I guess it's natural," I shrug.

"Don't you have a game to buy?"

I pause, and realize he still wants me to have fun, even thought he can't have fun too. If anything, he'd get hurt. Damn, he's such a great friend. His boyfriend, Luke, is lucky to have a guy like him. I ought find myself one too.

I nod, and make my leave. "Next drink's on you," I insist as I leave the table. Michael returns a smile to me, and I nearly bolt out to my car in excitement.

* * *

I was practically speeding to get to the game store. It was only 2, so the store didn't close for another few hours. As long as there isn't a crazy crowd, I should be in and out of there since I pre-ordered the game.

Surprisingly, I found that the store was nearly empty once I got there. I enter to find nobody inside, except for the short man behind the counter. His name is Edgar, and he probably spends more time at this store than the owner of the place.

"How are you today?" I greet the short man with jet black hair and cinnamon brown eyes.

"I'm alright," Edgar responds. "I have your reserved copy of Skyrim here for you."

"Wonderful," I can feel my face being lift from the huge smile that I couldn't wipe off my face. He goes under the counter, and pulls out the envelope that holds the card with the activation code on it.

Without hesitation, Edgar can see my anticipation. "Just sign here, and it's yours."

Without even looking at the title of the document, I snatch the pen from his hands and scribble my name onto the line that asked for my signature. Once the scribbles of ink were there, I didn't even check to see that I signed perfectly on the line. I take the white envelope, and make my leave.

"Have a great day!" I jog out the door. I couldn't hear Edgar's response, but I could make it up to him next time I visit. I have it. Seventy-five pounds in my hand, waiting to be activated into my AmuSphere

* * *

_**A/N: **Hey guys! Sorry I've put Briinah to rest for a bit. I've been focusing more on school, and I've yet to come up with more ideas for that story. Well anyway here's the new story I was hinting about! To clear up some confusion, this is the universe of SAO, but a few years into the future. Also Summer lives in Manchester, England. There will not be any characters from SAO until halfway through the series, but they will play very important parts to the plot._


	2. Chapter 1: The Storm

After half an hour of anxiously submitting the 45 character code into my AmuSphere X and waiting for the data to upload, the game is finally installed. The carriage with Ulfric Stormcloak tied up in the back is calling my name as I equip the software over my eyes.

"Link start," I command. Instantly the world is turned black. Grey smoke rises, and the Imperial logo appears, while a Barbarian choir faintly chants the Dragonborn theme song. If I had my body right now, it'd be getting goose bumps.

The silver logo fades away, and weirdly enough, so did the smoky black background. I suddenly feel myself fall face first to the ground. Instead of spawning in a carriage to Helgen, I spawn in a forest.

What... What just happened? I look down to see my hands, literally. I never made a character, nor did I scan my body with the device, so I don't know why my hands rendered through the software. I also look further down to find myself in my birthday suit. I was lucky I wasn't in Winterhold or Windhelm, otherwise I'd be frozen.

But why... why am I here? Where's Helgen? Where's the carriage with Ulfric? Where is... Skyrim?

Maybe I wasn't in Skyrim. Maybe I was near the border, like how the game implied that was where the Dragonborn was first found by the Imperials Legion. But then, why am I naked? How do I make my character?

What the hell is happening?

Do I stay here, and wait for an NPC to find me? Or do I begin exploring, where enemies will probably spawn. I should find out where I am, and fast, before someone sees me.

I find myself in a forest with bright green pine trees. I hear the sounds of leaves rustling beneath me as I stand up, situating myself into my new, virtual body. I find a stone path about a dozen feet away from my spawn location, so I creep towards it.

Before my foot could touch the stone, a vile smell taunts my nose. The violent sound of crunching leaves is giving my eardrums goose bumps. I turn around to literally find my worst fear: a three foot tall spider shooting venom at me. It's a frostbite spider! The venom hit my foot, almost freezing it solid. Knowing I'm defenseless, I stumble into a limped sprint away from the spider, and onto the stone path.

I find myself stumble to the ground once more, this time onto the stone path.

"Hey, watch it!" The voice of a startled man shouts at me.

I try to apologize, but I can't stop myself from stuttering. I look at my knees to find them bleeding. Something on the stranger's hands starts glowing, before the world turns black.

* * *

"She's waking up!" I hear a voice exclaim.

My vision is blurred, but I can feel rough cloth covering my skin. I blink a couple times until my sight is clear. I wasn't outside anymore. This place was much warmer, but where was it?

I look up, and turn to see a caged wall, a hallway, and another caged wall on the other side of the wall. I must be in jail... I must be wearing prisoner's clothes. But when I look, I'm proven wrong when I find the clothes were only used as a blanket. I find a dark figure outside of my cell, and stare at it dead in the eye, probably with confusion.

"If you want, I'll turn around while you clothe yourself." The voice suggests. The voice was of a male, and it was a strangely intimidating yet amusing voice.

"Where am I?" I question the man who I am still unable to make out even his body type. I can't even decipher his race.

"Riften Jail," the man answers. "I found you running stark naked outside the city walls. You were mumbling something about 'going back to Manchester.' Of all the books I've read and stories I've been told, I've never once heard of a Manchester."

Oh my god. I talk in my sleep, so I was probably mumbling about home when I was knocked out. Obviously an NPC wouldn't know what Manchester is, nor would they know London, Paris, New York, or Tokyo. I can't believe I may have to explain what Manchester, my home, is to this NPC. Maybe I can start a new game, or load to a previous autosave, if there was any.

I wave my hand in front of me, attempting to pull up some type of menu. Nothing was happening. I poke the space in front of me. Nothing was happening. I even lay back down into the bed, hoping that maybe sleeping in a bed will log me out. And again, nothing was happening.

No... there's no way to open a menu! There has to be... but... when that spider venom hit my foot, I was supposed to feel no pain. Instead, _I felt my foot almost freezing off of my leg._ It was the most painful experience I've ever had in a simulation game, which is designed to have _no _pain.

Suddenly, time freezes, and a notification message appears in front of me.

"Welcome to the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, 20 Year Anniversary Edition! You may have noticed that there is no access to a menu where you can save your game or log out. This was done on purpose, to make the game more eventful and realistic. Argus wants the users to experience Skyrim for what it's really worth: your life. That's right, you cannot die in Skyrim and load back a previous save, because that would be cheating death. If you die in game, your real body will experience the same feelings of death your avatar will. You may have also realized that the Elder Scrolls V is not a multiplayer game, therefore, you have to figure out how to leave the game on your own. We've set the game difficulty to expert to give everyone a slight challenge. The main plot has also been slightly altered, so players can learn the new way to beat the game, rather than going by old methods. Thank you for purchasing the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim 20 Year Anniversary Edition! We hope you enjoy your experience!"

No. This can't be true.

No. This can't be legal...

No. No! _No!_

_It's Sword Art Online all over again._

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Hey guys! So yeah, Summer's trapped in Skyrim. Not sure if that's cool, or scary considering how difficult life can be in Skyrim. Just a heads up, the plot is going to be almost identical to the plot of the first season to Sword Art Online, so I'm going to say this now the plot is HEAVILY inspired by SAO. I will make alterations near the climax, so the plot will be more original than a copy. Either way, I do not entirely own the plot. Nor do I own the setting. I just own the two main characters and the idea of putting the two stories together. Hope that's cool. So yeah, thanks for reading and I'll post more next week at the earliest! _


	3. Chapter 2: Familiar Place, Foreign Face

"Hey, are you alright?" The message fades away. Time continues, and I find myself staring at the dust floating in the dimmed light emitting from the torch on the wall.

Without giving the stranger an answer, I pull the ragged trousers and shirt onto my body. I turn to find a bucket of water beside the bed. I look inside to find my reflection.

My auburn hair has become raggedy and matted. My fern green eyes have dark purple bags under them. But other than that, I appeared the same as I do in the real world. My eyebrows were all the same, other than for covering the scar, there wasn't a grain of make up on my face. My pale skin: freckly on the cheeks with a huge scar between my ear and jawbone, where Michael's cat once scratched me.

Michael... He lost his brother to a game by Argus. Now he's going to lose his best friend too...

No. I won't let that happen.

I'm going to find a way to win this game... if there even was a way. How do you beat a roleplaying game? Seriously. Beating Skyrim is like drawing outer space: there is no end. Even if one completes the main storyline, there's still an infinite amount of quests and missions one can do. Do I have to do all of them... and live?

"Listen," the dark figure interrupts my train of thought. "I've bailed you out. The guards threw you in here because they assumed you were mad, but I believe otherwise."

"Is my freedom your business?" I pace towards the caged wall of the cell.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?"

"I'm not going to give an answer to a stranger who's bribing me by bailing me out of prison," I insist.

"Don't you mean a stranger who was kind enough to bail you out?" God, talk about cocky.

"Just tell me your name," I impatiently request.

"Conlan," he answers. The name was unfamiliar to me. It's probably the name of a human. I knew of no NPC's by that name. Maybe he only spawns when you're a really high level. No, then why would he spawn for me? I'm probably a level negative fifty. Maybe he only spawned because of the new plot.

"Conlan," I repeat his name the way he introduced it, except sounding modest rather than arrogant. "Why did you take me here?"

"You didn't seem intimidating. You had a look of fear in your eyes, until you blacked out. I killed the frostbite spider that was chasing you, and carried you to the nearest city. They just locked you up because they thought you were mad."

"I'm not mad," I assure Conlan. "I'm afraid."

"You don't need to be afraid. I'm Skyrim's strongest warrior. If anything, enemies will be trying to take me down before you."

Wow. I can name maybe six other NPC's that give themselves the title of 'Skyrim's more powerful warrior.' Wait until I start absorbing dragon souls, I'd like him try to keep that title then.

"Don't get your hopes up," I advise him. "Your strong ego will kill you," that was a lesson Michael taught me, which he learned from Luke.

"Yeah, so will that attitude of yours." Conlan shoots back to me. The nerve of him. If I knew how to use magic, I'd probably shoot an ice spike at him.

"Are you done chatting, or can I release her now?" A guard calls from afar.

"Sorry, you may let her go." Conlan steps back, and the pinheaded guard unlocks the gate.

"Stay out of trouble, stranger." The male guard tells me.

"That reminds me, I don't know your name." Conlan states.

Crap, what do I tell him? My real name? The name I was going to name my character? My mother's name?

"I," I lie, "forgot."

"Forgot something as simple as your name?" Conlan taunts from behind me. Then, he changes to have a more understanding attitude. "Well I'm not surprised. You were practically traumatized just from that spider. It's like you fell here from another world."

My face burned up, and I tried not to freak out over the fact that his suggestion was true, and that I'm probably never going to see that world again.

* * *

We walk outside where there is more light. The sun was rising, and nobody was outside of their houses yet. Riften was just like how it was in the game. Except... it was real.

With there being enough light, I turn to Conlan to make out his appearance. He wore a set of dwarven with an Orcish battleaxe on his back. He also wore an awfully familiar mask and hood.

"That mask," I begin, "is that a Dragon Priest mask?" A Dragon Priest was probably the hardest enemy to battle in the game, besides dragons themselves.

"It is," Conlan hesitates. "I'm surprised you know what it is. Where did you learn about this?"

"I don't know," I lie, "It just seems awfully familiar, and for some reason I knew." I turn my head, and stare at the city marketplace.

Despite it's beauty, this was one of the most dangerous cities in Skyrim. Most of the Thieves Guil are under the noses of guards, and from what I remember from playing this game, thieves would cause a scene almost every other night.

"Thank you for saving me," I turn to face Conlan. "I guess I owe you."

"You have nothing," Conlan reminds me, "I don't think you can pay me back."

"You're right," I regretfully assure him.

"Actually, I do need help with something," he suggests. Oh no.

In this game, whenever someone asks for your help, you either end up going to raid a dungeon or a bandit camp to retrieve something. And most of the time, you don't even get to keep it.

"It depends on what it is you need help with," I inform him.

"It's my children," Conlan's voice goes heavy. "Their mother, my wife, recently passed. The girls have no one to learn from. No one to teach them how to cook, plant crops, clean their rooms, that easy stuff. I'm off trying to do jobs and make coin for them, and the people who live at my home aren't really good with children."

"Are you asking me to babysit them?"

"I'm asking if you could be like their mentor of life." Conlan begs, "They need someone, and you're a person who I can afford if you owe me. You look like you need a place to settle in for a while, as well. If you do this for me, you will have a home, meals, and protection."

Hm. Free housing, food, and a bodyguard? I'm about it. I'd have to be a fool to turn down such a request.

"Okay, I'll meet them. Where do they live?"

"The Pale," Conlan informs me.

* * *

_**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for the views and positive feedback. I really appreciate it ^-^ This week has been pretty hectic for me (school and someone stole my identity ._.) so I haven't gotten down to writing more chapters for this story. I plan on doing that tonight and publishing more tomorrow. Thanks again for the support! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and have a lovely day/evening!_


	4. Chapter 3: Making Myself at Home

"Here it is," Conlan proudly states, "Heljarchen Hall. Built by yours truly."

"You built this?" I ask, and then it hits me. This is a house you could build in the game for your character to live in. Why does an NPC have this?

"That's what I said," Conlan answers.

A door opens, and two unfamiliar girls come running out of the house."

"Papa!" One girl shouts, "you're home!" She was a Nord with her sandy blonde hair pulled back, wearing a red dress with a white underskirt.

"Did you get us any gifts?" The other girl, with slightly darker hair that was down just above her shoulders wore an orange dress with purple laced edges. She starts pulling on her father's gauntlet.

"Sort of," he turns to me, and gestures me to approach the girls. "Metta, Smilla, this is a woman who will be going to look after you guys whenever I'm gone. She will play with you, teach you skills, and help you with anything you girls need."

Great. I'm a Mary Poppins that cannot sing.

"Hi!" Both girls greet me in unison.

"Hello ladies," I smile at them. They look almost exactly the same (like every child in this game), but something was off. I don't think these kids could've been adopted anywhere. In fact, they don't even look like the kids of any NPC in the game. Maybe Conlan was a new NPC of some sort.

* * *

"I need to ask you a few questions," I report to Conlan once he exits his armory after dinner. His steward, Sven, was cleaning up the wooden bowls from what seemed to be the most bland beef stew I've ever eaten.

"Certainly," Conlan gestures me into the room behind the kitchen, where a copper-colored shield with feathered decals hangs on a display with two steel swords.

"I just want to remind myself of everything, since I've been out of it for a while," I suggest.

"I understand that," Conlan nods, "What do you need?"

"Information," I insist. "What year is it?" I knew that asking for an exact date would be useless, considering that I didn't know the dating system of this place. I do know, however, that the game originally takes place in 4E 201 (in Earth terms, two hundred and one years into the fourth era).

"4E 201," he answers innocently.

"Who is Skyrim's High King?" If I get an answer, it'll either tell me Conlan's side on the Civil War, or who actually won.

"That's up for debate, considering there's a Civil War going on right now," Conlan laughs. I nod in acknowledgement.

Finally, the last question, the ice breaker.

"Are dragons alive?"

Conlan ponders, then bursts into laughter with the question. He finally calms down, and was probably having tears of laughter run down his face behind his mask. "By the Gods, how many children tale's have you been reading?"

"None," I answer shyly. Even though I truly didn't know, I felt my face burning from embarrassment. I almost felt tears in my eyes, which was weird, considering this was only supposed to be a simulation.

"Don't be so down, girl," he laughs again, only making the situation more awkward. "It was just a question I didn't expect I'd have to answer from an adult. I apologize for the inappropriate reaction."

I don't respond, and I still wait for my answer.

"Dragons haven't been around for centuries," he finally answers as a serious question. "I don't expect to run into any within my lifetime."

Well, that tells a lot. Nobody knows that the Last Dragonborn is coming. The scariest thing is, nobody knows who the Dragonborn is.

Except for me. I'm probably the Dragonborn.

* * *

_**A/N: **Hey guys! sorry this chapter is really short. I've come down with a fever, so it took me a while to edit this. I hope this was satisfactory!_


	5. Chapter 4: Homesickness

I've been trapped in this game for days. I've spent all of them at Heljarchen Hall, isolating myself from the world, fearing my death. The upside: I've taught Smilla and Metta how to make apple pie, and I cut my hair. It's now really short, almost like a messy pixie cut, because of how matted it was before, and also because I've never cut my own hair before.

One night, or should I say every night, I couldn't sleep. I didn't know how to sleep, to be quite honest. I bet my body at home was exhausted by now, if not asleep. Or worse, in a hospital bed.

No, I couldn't think about home. The thought of it would remind me of the truth: I'm never going back. I can't. I'm the Dragonborn; not yet, anyways. I'm going to have to kill dragons, despite my herpetophobia. How the hell am I going to kill a giant flying lizard if I can't even approach an Argonian?

I decide to make an attempt to temporarily forget my problems by standing outside. I make my way out the front door, where the stable and garden waited for a stable's boy and gardener. Not being the gardener, I pass and make my way onto the balcony on top of the armory wing. I take myself a seat on the bench, and lay my head back on the small wooden railing. My face is staring at the sky, veiled with the pink and purple ribbons of aurora and glittered with stars.

I wish Michael was here to see this...

I force a gulp. Tears drown my eyes and I feel myself whimpering. I'm pathetic... this world will be obliterated too if I die. So will my life back at home, if it hasn't been already. Maybe the Earth will stay, but it won't stay in my reach. I can't do this. I just can't...

A door creak grabs my attention. I blink to clear my vision from tears, and see Conlan coming from the second floor door to the balcony. He immediately stops, probably surprised to find me out here.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I-"

"Don't worry about it," Conlan calmly answers as he takes a seat next to me on the bench. "I do the same thing the night before I leave for adventures."

"You're leaving tomorrow?" The idea scares me. While I was inside teaching the girls how to cook a potato the other day, I heard violent shouts and swords slashing steel. When Conlan and his housecarl Gregor came inside moments later, their armor and skin was stained with blood. They were apparently fighting with bandits that attempted to raid the property.

"I am. Why, did you want to come with me?"

"No!" I didn't want to die, "I couldn't. I'm just curious." Conlan wasn't buying it. He knows it just as well as I do: I'm scared of the thought that he would leave, like a puppy when his master leaves the house.

"You know, I don't think I want someone coming with me if they don't even know their own name."

He has a point, despite the fact that I don't want to go with him.

"Summer."

There was a pause, until Conlan speaks. "What?"

"My name is Summer." I have no point in hiding it anymore. This man let me into his home. He's given me a place to live in a world where I am an easy target. The least I could do was give him my name, even though he's kept his mask on the entirety of my time here.

"That is an odd name, but I'll take it." I don't blame him. I thought all the names in this game were crazy, until I realized they were basically medieval fantasy Vikings.

"Why do you wear the mask?" I question him.

"Oh, this old thing?" Conlan pulls the mask off, and faces it while it rests in his hands. If it weren't so dark outside, maybe I'd be able to make out what his damn face looks like.

Conlan then turns to me, and I take back those thoughts. His skin is darker than a Nord's, and his head is much more circular. He appears to be a Breton. His eyes and hair were the color of a warm chocolate fountain. He has scruffy eyebrows and his hair was messy (not as badly as mine) and just above shoulder length.

While I was observing his face, he was explaining to me where he got the mask. I wasn't paying attention because, damn, who knew an NPC could be so gorgeous. Now I understand why so many people were obsessed with Serana and Aela.

"Yes, that old thing," I reiterate. "Why do you cover your face?"

"To protect my identity," he says in a monotone voice.

"Why would you need to do that?" I question.

"Not everyone around here is a friend of mine," he states.

I was about to ask why, but I felt it would be too invasive. He's bailed me out of jail and gave me a roof to stay under. It would be inconvenient to be on his bad side.

"Well, I see you as a friend," I suggest.

"Why would you be foolish enough to do that?" Conlan snaps at me.

"I mean," I hesitate, and before I could explain my reasoning, I felt my heart racing. If my heart was beating this fast in a normal game, the AmuSphere would shut off. But something was preventing that. Something was keeping me here. Something must have hacked into my AmuSphere, preventing me from signing off. Preventing me from escaping.

"You don't have to explain," Conlan sighs, realizing I'm an emotional wreck. "Friendships don't need explanations."

"Thank you," I quietly answer. I stare back up to the sky, recalling that if anyone back at home was looking at the same sky as me, then that'd be terrible.

"I want to learn how to survive," I say out loud, forgetting that Conlan was beside me.

"So would I if I was as weak as you," he mocks.

Ignoring his insult, I continue. "I want- no, need to learn how to defend myself. If anything were to happen, I wouldn't be able to defend myself or anyone else as of right now."

"You're right," he remarks. "Is that why you looked so horrified when I told you I was thinking of leaving for a while?"

"You couldn't have said it better," I answer.

Conlan shakes his smiling head, almost bursting into laughter. "Well I don't want anyone to depend on me except for my daughters."

"And I'm not your daughter," I remind him.

"Right," he trails off, and pauses. Before I could ask what was on his mind, he gave me the answer.

"I'll stay here so I can train you. Once you're strong enough, I will allow you to accompany me on some trips," he insists.

I want to suggest that we'd only do the first half of his idea. Then I realize he's right. I have to learn to go on adventures if I'm ever going to beat this game. How will a home-school teacher be able to defeat Alduin?

"We'll being tomorrow," Conlan suggests.

"Why not now?" I suggest.

"You're eager," he smiles. "I'm not. I need to rest, and you should too."

Yeah, if only I knew how to rest. I hope I don't need sleep training, either.

Without an argument, we both head inside. He makes his way to the large bed down stairs, and I make my way to my bed in the room above his. I lay down, and stare at the ceiling, thinking of home.

* * *

_**A/N: **I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned: chapter 5 (and maybe six) should be published next weekend! Have a lovely week!_


	6. Chapter 5: The Spark

_**A/N:** __Thanks for reading guys! Here's the next chapter. Sorry it's pretty lame. However, the next chapter is quite eventful. Hope you guys enjoy!_

* * *

The following morning, we were in the entrance of Conlan's house, and he insisted that I stay there while he fetches me various types of armor to try on. He first presented me first with Elven armor, but I denied it, saying it was too big on me. He then gave me fur armor which barley covered my skin, and I told him that I didn't want to freeze to death. Then I requested heavy armor, which he retorted, "that's too heavy for such an inexperienced woman, don'cha think?"

"I want it," I demand, then I turn to a softer tone. "I'll get used to the weight."

"If you insist," he rolls his eyes. "Wait here. I've got a set of steel plates I can loan to you."

He leaves before I could thank him. I wait in the front room, in torn clothes that were stained permanently with dirt, sweat, and quite possibly blood of whoever the previous owner was. Probably someone Conlan killed.

"You might need some help putting this on," Conlan returns with a set of armor, which I must say is so much bigger than I ever thought it would be.

"Just the first time," I admit. I'd probably need a second time, too. I first put on the chest piece with the attached sleeves for my arms and legs. I almost stumbled when Conlan let go of me, after tying the armor's laces so tight.

"You sure you want this? It'll be much heavier with a full set," Conlan hesitates for the boots sitting on the chair behind him.

"I'll be fine," I insist. "Please let me try the full set."

He turns for the boots and gauntlets. "I'd say no, but this is the first armor type that you haven't complained about; I want to get this over with."

Without responding, I take the boots first once he reaches them out to me. I attempt to put my right foot in first, but it refuses to slide in. When I almost trip, Conlan acknowledges my struggle.

"Never worn boots before?" He approaches me, and slides a chair for me to have a seat.

I take the seat. he takes the boot, unlacing the back, making sure that I was watching him. The plates of the boot open like a door, and I slide my foot into position.

"Can you do the other one by yourself?" Conlan raises an eyebrow, answering as if I was a child in school that asked for help on every question of a test.

I nod, and lace the boot on. I then unlace the left one, and lace it back up. Once I was finished, Conlan shows me the gauntlets, unlacing the first one for me.

My only complaint for the gauntlets were that they're always either too tight or too loose, no matter how Conlan or I laced them. But I know I already got on every single one of Conlan's nerves, so I kept quiet about the matter.

"Now for the glaze on top of the sweetroll," Conlan says. I don't understand what he was saying, until he was reaching for the steel plate helmet. It had feather-like... things_...decor?..._ pointed out on each side of the helmet. The metalwork was very nice, from what I could tell, but it looked kind of ridiculous. I'd feel like a flamboyant chicken walking around.

Conlan places the helmet on my head. I couldn't see anything out of it. Without addressing it the problem, Conlan took immediate notice into it. However, he didn't bother to fix the issue.

"You must wear a helmet if protection is a priority to you," he says in a stern yet guiding voice. "We can head to Dawnstar and get a helmet custom-made for you, since finding one that would fit a woman is quite uncommon."

"Why is it uncommon for women to use heavy armor?" I question.

"Women in Skyrim are expected to raise kids and cook meals," Conlan begins. "Unless they married a loser, like a drunk. Then they have to do the work. The shop-running, the inn-keeping, the looting, the killing, anything to make money. Someone has to do it, but more commonly it's the men. And women who do hard work aren't usually the mercenary or sell-sword type. And if they are, many choose to use light armor. I believe there only around one or two women in each hold that uses heavy armor, not including Whiterun's Companions, of course..." Conlan's voice decrescendos, and he trails off into thought.

"Are you a Companion?"

"Not anymore," he responds.

"Why not?"

"They offered me something, and I didn't want to take it. They wouldn't offer me any more work until I took the offer."

I felt it'd be rude to ask what they offered him, so I decided not to waste my breath trying to ask. My suspicion is the "gift" of werewolf blood, where members of the Circle of the Companions would be granted the ability to transform into a werewolf.

"Do whatever makes you feel best," I attempt to brighten the mood.

"Thank you for not bombarding me with more questions," he laughs. He has to learn that these jokes were only amusing himself.

* * *

"I'll be going out for some time," I overhear Conlan tell Sven about his departure. "Make sure everything goes well with my girls, yourself, and everyone."

"The new teacher- Summer, she calls herself? She feels she can protect herself?" Sven questions Conlan.

"Yeah. I had to give her a set of steel-plate armor for her to be satisfied," Conlan's tone was obviously of irritation. I want to apologize, but then I'd have to explain my eavesdropping.

Sven laughs. "Over-armed is better than under-armed, I guess."

"Cheers, my friend," I hear cups being clanked against one another, and a door creaks and shuts.

I forgot something.

I start running from the upper floor, not allowing my new armor to weigh me down.

_Something I have to tell him._

I rush into the room where Sven was, and bolt past him and through the front door. "Conlan!" I shout.

I see his black horse go on it's rear legs, and Conlan has to tame it. He shoots me an agitated look, "What did you yell for?!"

"I'm sorry, but I need to ask you a favor," I rush my words, making them slightly audible.

"I'm sort of going on a journey right now," he responds. "Can it wait?"

"I need you to visit some place," I insist.

"Whatever for?"

That's a good question.

"I had a dream last night," I lie. "There was someone saying there was an opportunity for good fortune. I forgot who you had to speak to, bu-"

"I don't believe in fantasies," he rolls his eyes. "I'm going to Falkreath because I have a good relationship with Lod, the blacksmith. He can get me a woman's helmet for a good price. However, if it's truly necessary..." He mounts his horse, and looks down to me.

"Where do you want me to go?"

"Darkwater Crossing."


	7. Chapter 6: Started: A Hero is Born

Conlan's trip to Falkreath was quite a long one. After a week of tranquility, we all heard the sound of horseshoes hitting against ice, indicating that he was home.

"Papa!" The girls exclaimed. They hurried out the door from the kitchen, and I slowly follow. Then Sven smiles, "They love when he returns from trips. It means new gifts to take and new stories to hear."

"The only problem is when he returns home drugged."

I almost didn't hear that second statement.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't say you heard it from me, but Conlan's an alcoholic. It's better though, because he used to be a skooma addict," Sven shrugs, and raises his eyebrows.

Pretending that I didn't hear Sven, I make my way outside. I find the girls being twirled in the air by their father, who was more than happy to see his daughters again. Almost too happy.

Conlan then notices me. He stares at me, as if I just killed someone, and approaches me.

"We need to talk," he says in a hushed voice. I nod, knowing of what went wrong.

* * *

Conlan took my advice, and went to Darkwater Crossing. He was arrested by the Imperial Legion, and was sent to be executed at Helgen. However, an accident got him out of that messy situation.

"You really mean it? You saw a real dragon? Like, one that shoots fire and ice from it's throat?" I'm trying to sound astonished, if it wasn't obvious.

"Indeed," Conlan's voice was shaken as if he was talking about the slaughter babies. "Except this one... it shouted to the sky and a meteorite shower formed! There was fire everywhere. The dragon was this ebony black color, with fierce eyes of fire that you couldn't forget!"

Alduin the World Eater. The main antagonist of not only this game, but to this world. His destiny is to literally devour the world, claiming it's end. Now that may be silly because a dragon eating an entire planet? Yeah sure that'll happen. Not to mention he's the son of Akatosh, who is the Zeus of the Divines.

The fact that I may have to face him is something I don't want to think about just yet. Even with the crappy graphics from twenty years ago, he appeared to be very vicious (even though he wasn't very difficult to kill). If he just landed in front of me right now, without me planning on killing him, I'd probably piss my armor and forget how to hold a weapon.

"Hopefully dragons don't like the skies around the Pale," I snicker.

"I won't matter. If any flying reptiles try to come near here, they're going to be shot out of the sky," he responds with vexation. He then turns to me, having a look that was almost as sinister as the deadra.

* * *

A few hours later, I was in Dawnstar with Conlan. Once we arrived outside the city limits, he turns to me with a steel sword in its leather scabbard.

"Your weapon, ma'am," he says with a deeper voice, probably trying to imitate some blacksmith behind a Dragon Priest mask.

"Should I thank you?" I ask as I take the weapon, which I almost drop due to it's weight.

"It's only a single handed sword," he gasps. "If you can't even carry that, how are you going to hold up a shield?"

"I'll find a way," I insist, knowing that I won't.

Suddenly, the ground rumbles, and the chilly air turns bitter. The sky thunders and a shadow lurks over Dawnstar, despite how clear the skies were this morning.

Then, from behind a lone cloud, it appears. A creature with wings and a horned head, roaring the birds out of the sky and people from the streets. City guards draw their bows, and Conlan pulls out his battleaxe. I try to keep the sword up, until the beast lands in front of me. Snow flies in my face, and the sword falls to the floor.

_I'm going to die._


	8. Chapter 7: Completed: A Hero is Born

_**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for all the lovely support this week! I'm very pleased to see people interested in this story. Things can only get better from here, so stay tuned by following or favoriting; it's always appreciated! Anyway, here's the last chapter I'll be posting this week. Have a lovely week everyone, and thanks for reading!_

* * *

_Run. Just run. Don't stop running._

_The Dragonborn wouldn't run. The Dragonborn would fight._

_The Dragonborn would also have the skills to fight. The Dragonborn would be fearless._

_Or would the Dragonborn be smart enough to have a plan?_

Within seconds, I was inside the closest shop I saw. The store was empty, probably because the storekeeper fled in fear.

The floor was carpeted with books and broken glass, probably from bottles of potions. Speaking of potion, the smell was absolutely horrific. Rotten eggs smelt pleasant compared to the vile smell of these potions.

Then, something stood out. On the floor behind the counter was a red book. It was almost shining, and it was untouched, minus being on the floor. I pick up the book to find the pages inside were really cold.

I drop the book. It literally freezes solid, and shatters.

Frosty air was emitting from my hands. I look down in bewilderment.

_Did I just learn a spell?_

Without thinking, I pick up an identical book off the floor. I stare at it's pages, until my hands are zapped. The book falls, and electrocutes itself.

_Spell tomes!_

_I've got some reading to do._

* * *

"Quickly, shoot it before it burns down the Jarl's house!" A guard screams. The air was heavy with ash, as wood burnt and ice was melted.

I race out of the store, and turn to see _Conlan being thrown by the dragon._

Without a second thought, I run to where he was thrown: the mine by the docks. He was lying on his stomach, probably bruised beneath his armor.

I place a small healing potion beside him. "I know it's not much, but drink this. I'll hold it off while you do," I start to run up the hill where the dragon was, and I could hear Conlan calling my name.

Knowing it would be my last time seeing him, I block him out of my mind and run towards the dragon. My hands emit the frost and sparks I learned in the shop.

The dragon notices me, and shoots fire towards me. Before I knew it, a guard was in front of me with his shield.

"Back away, citizen!" The guard yells, and the dragon swoops the man, and throws him into a rock. Fortunately for me, he left his steel shield.

The dragon tries to burn me again, and I hold up the shield. Once the flames move away, I throw ice from my palm. The dragon's scales were froze. The beast's cruel red eyes glare at me.

The dragon tries to bite me, but I push it away with the shield. It then hits me again, this time must faster, and I fly to a bush and fall to the floor.

And here I die.

Conlan was then running up the slope from the docks, to find me on the ground. His battleaxe was in both hands, and he swung at the dragon's jaw, then climbed onto it's head. He pounded his battleaxe into the dragon's skull, and jumped off as it finally died.

Jogging to me, Conlan pulls out a healing potion. He removes the seal, and hands the small red bottle to me. "Drink this," he insists. "I had an extra one."

Without responding, I begin to drink the potion, which tastes as awful as it smelled. I then realize something.

_The dragon died. I'm going to absorb it's soul._

I lean over, and Conlan turns around. We peer at the dragon's corpse as the scales burn away like firewood. As the scales became ashes, they transformed into a yellow light, that shot towards us.

_Here we go._

The light wraps itself around Conlan, and he turns back to me, almost in embarrassment. The light absorbs into him, then it disappears, and all that remains is the dragon's skeleton.

_Conlan._

_He's the Dragonborn._


	9. Chapter 8: Pest in Armor

_**A/N: **Sorry I didn't post much this weekend! I had a football game Friday and band practice nearly all day Saturday. I also apologize that this chapter isn't very eventful. I will have more exciting work next weekend, and maybe even Thursday. Either way, thanks for reading!_

* * *

"I was summoned to High Hrothgar almost immediately after killing the dragon that attacked Whiterun," Conlan admits. "I don't want to get into details. I relive that night and the day I saw the black dragon in my nightmares. That's a tale for me to tell when I'm ready."

We were making a camp near the border of the Pale and Winterhold. I wish we could have gone back to the house, but Conlan was insisting the urgency of this journey.

"I've noticed your skills in destruction magic. You must have been a mage before you lost it," he suggests.

"I highly doubt it," I respond. I know there was no magic back at home, unless you consider the internet magical. If so, then maybe I was a wizard.

"Well I don't know much about magic, but if you keep practicing, your magicka could become stronger," Conlan says. "If you do get stronger, then you'll save me energy from teaching you how to use a blade."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, for starters, you could barley hold the thing when I handed it to you," Conlan says as a ribald. Realizing I was annoyed, he decides to waste no more time bickering. "If you enchanted your armor to make your magicka stronger, that'd impress me."

"I'll work on it," I lie. I'll steal gold from him and hire someone to put the enchantments on for me.

...

"Now why are you taking me with you to High Hrothgar? I thought my job was to watch over your daughters?"

The following morning, we were to take a road south to the east side of the Throat of the World to Ivarstead, which was the village that sat at the bottom of the tallest mountain in Tamriel. High Hrothgar sits on the top of the mountain, and Paarthurnax, the leaders of the Greybeards, happens to sit at it's peak. Conlan doesn't know that, yet. Nor will he guess that Paarthurnax is a dragon, neither.

As of right now, we were finishing poorly made salmon steak. Conlan has a bottle of mead in his hands, living up to the warning Sven gave me earlier. He offered me a bottle as well, but I decided it would be best to taste test alcohol when I'm alone rather than in a VRRPG.

"It's not healthy to be housebound. You'll be even crazier than when I first found you cowering from that frostbite spider," Conlan smiles.

"My memory loss and temporary insanity isn't something I find funny," I defend myself. "Neither wouldn't we find it funny if you had the same case as I did."

Conlan huffs, "You could've just asked for me to stop."

"Really?" I stop forcing the fish down my virtual esophagus, and stare at him. Conlan stops too. "Would you have listened?"

"Neither of us can answer that because it never happened," he argues.

"No. You know because I'm asking if you would, not if you could."

"You have a point," he states. He turns to grab his knapsack from behind the log he was sitting on. He pulls out his dragon priest mask, and pulls it over his head. "If you could see my face under this mask, it's not caring so much."

Wow. No wonder he has the soul of a dragon. He's just about as sinister as one.

"Speaking of that mask," I attempt to change the topic. "Who did you kill to get it?"

"Why do you believe I killed someone for it? Didn't I explain this to you before back at the house?"

Oh yeah. _While I_ _was lost in your stupid eyes because of your stupid face and you're stupid you stupid Dragonborn._

"Sorry, I must have forgot," I lie.

"Your memory is awful. Make sure I don't ask you to hold onto something for me because you'll probably lose it," he continues eating.

"Volskygge," he finally answers.

"Where is that?" I ask.

"Near Solitude. I killed some draugr and a dragon priest for it," he mutters.

"Thank you for telling me," I smile.

"You ought get yourself one," he suggests. I take it as a compliment, until he finishes. "That way I don't have to deal with seeing your ridiculous facial expressions all the time."

_Don't worry, I definitely regret ever laying eyes on yours._

I excuse myself to rest, even though I know I will have another sleepless night tonight.

"Fine, I'll keep watch first. You can take over in five hours, or once I'm tired. Whichever comes first," he suggests.

I agree, even though I know I still can't defend myself very well in argument or in terms of literal defense, other than casting a novice spell.

I'm going to need some practice.


	10. Chapter 9: Practice

_**A/N:** Here's the more eventful chapter I promised! We're nearing the halfway point of this story, but if necessary, I could make side stories about Summer and Conlan if I'm given enough support. Also if you're a hella good artist and you want to make fan art and send me your drawings, it would be really appreciated and I will use it (or the best one if I'm sent more than one image) as a cover for this story, considering that it's hard for me to get screenshots from my TV because I play on Xbox._

_Thanks again for the support! Enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

After the longest five hours pass, Conlan "wakes" me up. It was my turn to keep watch.

Once Conlan was definitely sleeping, part of me's debating to just watch him sleep. Logic, however, tells me that I would have this opportunity again. As of right now, it's essential for me to practice these spells.

I don't recall how I spawned those spells when the dragon appeared, but I need to remember.

_What did I do?_

I stare at the palms of my hands, trying to recall how the ice and sparks spawned in my hands only hours ago.

_What was I thinking?_

_What was I feeling?_

I was scared. There was a dragon that could've taken my life away, and I needed to prevent him from doing so. I barley defended myself, until Conlan came around.

_Do I have to be scared to use spells?_

My head whips around when snow is being crunched from a distance. Someone must be wandering behind the camp. I don't want to draw their attention to me.

_I need ice, fire, or storm. Protect me._

Growling.

_God, help me._

I stand up, and turn around to find three pairs of glowing eyes looking up at me from a distance.

_Wolves._

I clutch my hands into fists, and the wolves growl louder. I open my hands, allowing a spell to be cast in my hands.

My hands are still empty.

The wolves begin to bark, and the snow starts crunching even louder. I turn to look at Conlan, who is still asleep. I stare at him; this will be my last opportunity to do so.

The wolves' barks turn into howls and snarls. I shield myself with my arms and let out a cry when the first one launches itself at me from the dark abyss, revealing it's grey fur and rabid teeth and eyes. However, it doesn't touch me. The wolf falls to the floor, as it's being electrocuted to death.

I look down at my hands, and there were purple shocks running through my left hand.

_I just electrocuted that wolf._

The two other wolves charge at me. Without thinking, bolts of lightening fly from my hand to one of the wolves. I take a hold of my shield, push the other wolf away from me, and cause it to fall in the snow. Before the wolf could stand back up, more electric currents attack the wolf. The pack is dead.

"You handled yourself well."

I turn around and defend myself from the predator, until I realize it was only Conlan. Except, he was being electrocuted as well.

_"Oh my god!"_ I shout, "I'm _so _sorry." I begin to cry, and my hands shake as I try to find a healing potion in my knapsack.

Conlan grabs my wrist. "It's just a novice spell. I'm pretty strong, so it didn't do much to me," he was still wearing his mask, so I couldn't tell if he was truly being sincere or if he was being annoying.

"I'm still sorry."

"Don't be, you hardly left a scratch on me."

"I could have killed you," I whine.

"No, you aren't strong enough," he jokes. "But I will admit you're stronger than I thought."

"That's how it should be," I bloat.

Conlan lays his head back down. "My eyes are rolling under this mask," he informs me.

I don't respond, and allow him to fall back asleep, so I can look at the silent snob in peace.

* * *

After about half a day, we arrive to High Hrothgar. I got to practice my flames spell as we walked up the mountain. Not only did I increase my skills in destruction, but I kept us warm as well.

When we finally arrive to the top of the mountain, it was sometime in the mid afternoon. Although the sun was out, not even his rays could keep me warm on this mountain of ice. High Hrothgar was much bigger than I ever imagined. It was probably the size of the Tower of London, if you include the courtyard in the back of High Hrothgar.

Conlan approaches one of the staircases leading to the entrance, and I follow. Conlan turns to me, and puts a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"Best you stay here," he states. "I know these men don't like guests. They only want me here, so it's best that only I should see them."

"I have no problem with that," I tell him. Honestly, I didn't want to risk being _fus ro dahed_ off the mountain. I was hoping there would be some excuse as to me not going inside, and thankfully there is.

Once I heard the heavy iron slam shut, I knew I was, for the first time ever, alone.

_What should I do?_

* * *

I left a note on the offering chest outside of High Hrothgar, telling Conlan I would be heading back down to Ivarstead due to the unbearable cold. I actually got to kill a pack of wolves on my own during my voyage down.

I was nearing the bottom of the mountain. The sun was setting, and night must've been only half an hour away. I needed to get to an inn in Ivarstead, and fast.

All I had in regards to warmth was my viciously cold steel plate armor. I still had no helmet. I must've developed frostbite on my ears or nose. My head was pounding my skull open, begging for me to sleep in a warm bed.

"You don't look so good, traveler," a male voice echoes. It was the voice of a courier. I lifted my face from the floor to find a man, probably a Nord, in fur armor, with a hunting bow and iron arrows on his back.

"I have a healing potion, you could use it," the man reaches for his knapsack. I want to stop him; however, I could actually die if I deny his offer.

He's only a hunter. He can't do much harm.

I take the small red bottle from his hand, and guzzle it down. The potion didn't taste like a healing potion... it tasted sour rather than bitter.

_A potion of cure disease?_

"Let's get you to Ivarstead, we're near end the snowy path anyway," he wraps an arm around me, and his hand is under my breast. I found this gesture unnecessary, until I stumbled down to the stone path, my face eating dirt.

The hunter rushes on top of me, and rolls me onto my back. Before I could see his face, the world blurs and darkens.


	11. Chapter 10: Ending the Beginning

_**A/N: **This story has hit 600 views! Thanks everyone for reading! Sorry if this chapter is poorly written, I didn't have much time to edit because I literally have band practice in half an hour. Either way, enjoy, and thank you!_

* * *

A torch emits an ominous light into the room. I open my eyes, then shut them due to the amount of pain it took to move my eyelids. I finally force them open to find myself in a jail cell.

_Déjà vu?_

"Haha, she's awake!" A voice laughs. He has the voice of someone who meant trouble.

My vision brightens, and sharpens. Two men stand behind a caged wall: the hunter from the mountain (who I thought saved me), and a wood elf in Nordic armor.

_The irony._

"Such a naive girl, thinking a hunter on the Throat of the World wouldn't take advantage of having a sickly, unarmed girl stumbling at his feet," the elf continues to laugh.

I look down, discovering not only that my neck was sore, but also to find myself in grey, stained rags.

_Am I a prisoner?_

"Who-"

"I'm Keqe, chief of the Sour Blood bandits," the elf cuts me off. "You're going to be quite familiar with me, my lady."

My heart stops. _Please let that not be a threat._

"We're going to have real fun with her, aren't we?" The impersonated hunter smirks to his chief.

_That was a rape threat._

A third voice's laughter echoes from behind them. "Who does she think put her in those rags?"

All three men were laughing._ I've been violated already._

"Do you honestly think we wouldn't bother on helping ourselves while you were out _cold?"_ The hunter chuckles, and men whistle.

_"Shut up!"_ I shout, as tears blur my vision once again.

The men continue laughing.

"Be thankful we had the courtesy to put you in rags. Otherwise we would get quite a view when we're watching over our prisoners," the chief smirks.

_No._

Maybe they were lying... maybe they're only saying these remarks to scare me. How could they have done _that_ without me waking up?

"You'd be surprised how many of us there are," the elf chief continues. "Our entire gang has about twenty bandits. Imagine all of us taking pleasure in you."

"I don't imagine impossible events," I retort.

"Impossible?" The elf suggests. "You truly think that I won't summon every single one of them in here to have a good piece o' ya?"

I stare at him silently, and he smiles to the hunter. The hunter returns a nod.

"Get the boys in here," the elf utters. "We're having a game night."

The hunter jogs out of the room. The elf and the man behind him, who was in a full set of steel plate armor, follows. They unlock the door to my cell, and force me to the ground.

I'm struggling. I scream, squirm, and kick. They both sit on top of me, holding me down. I'm defenseless.

_Wait, no. I'm not._

The man in steel plate armor groans when a spike of ice is shot through his armor, and his torso. His corpse fall on me, until I push it to my right and onto the elf.

I run out of the cell with ice in my hand, searching desperately for my belongings. Instead, I find a crossbow on a wooden table. I reach for it, until my weight pulls me backwards and to the floor.

I'm laying on the ground, facing up, unable to move.

"You think a captor wouldn't know even a simple paralysis spell?" The elf taunts, as he pulls away his gauntlets. He sits on my stomach, and I couldn't even make a facial expression to show my intolerance.

"Shhh," he puts a finger over my mouth. "We're gonna be here for a long time."

My gut shivers. He begins to unlace the top of my rags, until an arrow to the head stops him. He falls sideways, and footsteps approach me. I couldn't turn to see who it was, until an auburn Dragon Priest masks looks down at me.

_Conlan!_

"There you are!" he gasps. There's blood on his armor. He spilt blood recently. His silence told me that he immediately noticed my partially unlaced top, while my silence informed him of the fact that I had temporary paralysis.

He kneels down, and removes his gauntlets. He laces the shirt shut.

I wanted to thank him, but paralysis wasn't helping.

"Come on," he bends down to pull me over his shoulder. "We'd better go." He stands up, and begins to jog.

Conlan has me in one hand, and an ebony sword in the other. All I could see is the ground, and occasionally his back. On the ground were bodies; the bodies of the people who could've potentially molest me.

Once we made it outside, I was to decipher whether it was sunrise or sunset. I was slowly regaining the ability to move my face, and finally, I could speak and move my head.

We're in an abandoned fort, and currently making our was our of it's walls. I look towards a forge only to find a hidden archer, hiding behind a wall of barrels, aiming straight for us.

"Conlan!" I shout.

Conlan turns the wrong direction, making me a perfect target for the archer. Before I knew it, I had an arrow between my eyes, and blood dripping down my forehead and onto the ground.

* * *

I lasted many months in Skyrim. Now I'm to spend the rest of my time in my grave. Or maybe even Heaven. Hell. Sovngarde. Oblivion.


	12. Chapter 11: Worse than Oblivion

_**A/N: **This chapter is really short and I'm sorry about that. I have a lot of homework to get done, so I should probably start it. Thanks for reading!_

_Also I watched the latest episode of SAO today. I realize it was a similar plot to my last chapter in regards to a general problem within the chapter. I published that chapter literally an hour before the episode was released online. So before anyone accuses me of stealing ideas, I did not see that episode until after I published that chapter._

* * *

I'm blinded by bright lights. Fluorescent lights. Hospital lights!

_Have I awakened?_

_Am I truly back?_

This doesn't make sense. I just had an arrow between my eyes. I couldn't possibly be alive. I didn't beat Skyrim. I didn't even create a plan on how to get out without even being the main character of the game.

_Maybe I'm dead._

I finally gain my sight, and a horrific sight appears before me. A hospital bed, with hundreds of wires attached to the patient laying there. The patient wears in a light blue hospital gown and something over his eyes.

I tried to walk towards the patient, but I was being held back by some unknown force.

Before I could panic, the brown wooden door on the other end of the room creaks open. A woman and a man walk in, both wearing hospital scrubs. Behind them, an older but taller man in a tan suit and small glasses.

"This is her?" The man in the suit says as he turns to look at the patient.

"Yes," the woman answers softly. "She's been here for over a year now; fifteen months to be exact. She was found on the bed in her apartment, where she lived alone, weeks after Skyrim was released. If she wasn't taken here, she wouldn't be here."

_I'm the patient in the bed. It's the AmuSphere X on my eyes._

"Well, then I can't give what Michael left for her." The suited man pauses, and walks toward the table beside my bed, where cards covered the surface of the tabletop. He didn't pick any of them up, but I could immediately tell he knew the significance of the cards. But I didn't. Were they from Michael? Family? How old were these cards?

"Does she have a secured bank account?" The suited man turns to the doctors.

"Not that we know of," the male doctor responds. "We were told she was only a college student; she didn't have a job. Her parents paid for her education and living."

"Fine then," the suited man confirms. "I'll write out a check for twenty-five thousand pounds for her parents."

_What?! Why was this man giving me so much money in Michael's name?_

"That's a lot," the woman raises her eyebrows. "This man loved her?"

"No," the suited man answers. "She was Michael's best friend. After this girl was put into this... coma, I should call it, he decided to work for a while longer, only to give all the money he'd make to her and her family in his will."

One of the doctors made a comment about his generosity, but I didn't catch it.

_No. Michael couldn't be..._

_Michael was dead._

* * *

My vision faded, and I awoke under a night sky ornate with ribbons of auroras. I felt weightless, like I was floating in the air, until I felt a warm hand on my forehead.

"Thank the Nine," before I knew it, Conlan threw himself on top of me, smothering me with.._. a hug?..._ I could not escape from.

"Wha-" I mutter, until I'm freed from his embrace. I stare at him blankly, while he stared back at me with an unmasked, relieved face.

"Before you can waste you breath," Conlan begins. "I killed the last bandit. The archer was the last one. I made him regret shooting you."

"How did you..." I pause. "No potion is powerful enough to heal an arrow to the head, or am I wrong?"

"A few restoration spells are." Conlan smiles, and I realize what he means.

"You study restoration?"

"I used to. My mother was a priestess, so she was always studying restoration. I just caught on, and read some of her older spell tomes that were lying around," he trails off, as if he just shared to me the most embarrassing secret ever uttered by man.

I have no words. I didn't feel it would be appropriate to mock him right after being revived and rescued by him. I didn't know how to thank him. Words would surely not be enough.

_Or maybe they would be._

"Conlan," I hesitate. He turns to me with wide eyes.

"Remember when I told you that I didn't remember anything about my home?" I stutter out my question, but Conlan nods.

"I remember now."


	13. Chapter 12: Hard Truths

_**A/N: **Hey guys! this chapter is really long, so I hope that isn't too much of a problem. I also hope you guys enjoy this chapter! **A/N #2:** So I republished this chapter because there were many errors. I'm sorry!_

* * *

I told him. It was a long process, but somehow I told Conlan that I was from another world. A world outside of any of the realms in this universe. A world with technology more advanced than the Dwemer's. A world where nobody knew what a Khajiit or an Argonian was. A world where swords and shields were ancient weapons, and automatic machinery became the most powerful weapons around. This world I called my home. My Manchester to his Dawnstar. My England to his Skyrim. My Earth to his Nirn.

I then explained to him my situation. How there were copies of this world for people of my world to explore individually, and how I have one of those copies. How I ended up stuck here, being cheated with the inability to return home. How I'm supposed to complete my unknown quest by literally fulfilling my destiny in this world, but how there was also nothing I could do at this rate. This game is infinite. I can do literally anything, and there will always be something for me to do here. I can never fulfill my unknown destiny. I can never return home.

After a long pause, I assume Conlan is done trying to recollect everything I said to him.

"How many people from your world know about mine?" Conlan questions in concern.

"At least thousands of people," I answer. His silence emits horror. I explain further. "Since there are exact replicas of this world, they are all alone in their own copy of world. I am the only one from my world-."

"How can there be copies of Nirn? That's impossible; the Gods wouldn't do that!"

I don't know how to answer him. Skyrim's as scientifically advanced as 13th century Europe. How do I begin to explain to him that we don't believe in the Nine, or for a fair portion of us, any deity at all?

"Conlan," I whimper, knowing how painful this is going to be for the both of us. "Forgive me for saying this, but the Nine did not create Nirn. People from my world created the Nine. They created Nirn, and they created you."

Conlan pauses, and removes his mask. He stares at me as if I said the most blasphemous words anyone could utter. He sighs, and slowly rolls his eyes away from me. He moves away from the bed roll where I laid, and sits on a bench near the fire pit.

"Why?"

That was Conlan's only response.

I don't want to say for entertainment. That would probably cause him to gut me.

_Why did people make this world?_

"To prove to the rest of the world that they are capable of controlling other people like me," I realize. It was true. Argus developed this game to prove to everyone that they can control us, just like they did with the Sword Art Online players. Just like they did with Michael's brother. Just like they did with me. Just like they did with Michael...

I felt tears built up in my eyes. I try to sit up, until Conlan hears me.

"Lay back down," he demands. "You're still weak."

"I don't know if you're saying that because of the arrow, or because you don't believe me."

"I'm saying that because I want you to rest."

"I'm fine," I insist.

"No, you're mad!" Conlan is now shouting, almost holding back the unrelenting force shout.

I'm left with only one option. "Do you want me to prove to you that what I'm saying is true?"

"So I can go mad too?" Conlan still wasn't looking at me.

"No," I say. "So I can prove the truth to be valuable to you."

* * *

"In the cart to Helgen, next to you was Ulfric Stormcloak with his mouth gagged shut. Across from you was a Stormcloak soldier named Ralof, from Riverwood. Next to him, a thief from Rorikstead." I wasn't with Conlan when he was taken to Helgen. He never told me the story. I couldn't be sure it was exactly the same as before, so I hope my experiences are enough. I know he doesn't want to talk about his experiences.

_But I have to._

"Once you got there, there was a boy with his parents, standing outside his house. He wanted to watch the execution, but his parents demanded that he go inside."

"You're unloaded from the cart, and you stand in line while in a female Imperial Officer and a male legionnaire named Hadvar call for names. The thief from Rorikstead attempts to flee, and an archer shoots him before he can escape. Finally they notice you. They don't recognize you, because your name wasn't on the list, but they send you to the block anyway."

"As the priestess gives everyone their final rights and blessings, a Stormcloak demands her to shut up and 'get on with it.' He is the first to be beheaded. His last words were, 'my ancestors are smiling at me, Imperial. Can you say th-?'"

_"Enough!"_ Conlan hurls a piece of bread at me. Without a word, I catch it and eat it, since I haven't eaten in days.

"How do you know all this?" He finally looks at me with evil eyes, demanding for an answer.

"Because there's an older and safer copy of the game, where people can play as you: the Dragonborn. I've played it, and I've been to Helgen. I've seen what you've seen."

"Summer," Conlan begs. "I might believe you. I'm sorry I didn't at first it's just..."

"You don't have to explain," I interrupt. "I didn't expect you to believe me at all."

"I wouldn't be sure, but there's no other logical way you could've known about Helgen. You had no idea how to defend yourself or even have the courage to step outside my house until I trained you." He stands, and walks to the foot of the bedroll. I was still sitting up, but Conlan knelt down and stared at me dead in the eyes.

"Please lay down," he calmly requests. "We have a long day tomorrow."

"Promise not to kill me?" I joke.

"Not unless you can answer one thing for me," Conlan takes my joke as a serious matter.

"Will I defeat Alduin?"

I don't want to be gutted, so I decide to give him the affirmative. That is, until a notification pops up, causing time around me to stop.

**"Sorry. The dialogue you were about to say is not available."**

The notification fades away, and time resumes. Conlan waits for his answer.

"I can't answer that," I know the floor was waiting to be painted with my blood just by giving him that answer. "I want to, but I'm not allowed to. I'm sorry."

Wait. _How am I able to tell him about the world that created him and not about his desti-_

"You can't give me the end of my destiny," Conlan gives a gentle frown. "I have to find it myself."

After everything he's done for me... housed me, fed me, revived me, rescued me... the least I could do is tell him his destiny. I can't even do that. Feeling guilty, I shoot from the bedroll and embrace him.

"By the name of Kyraneth, lay back down!" Conlan demands, but I ignore him.

"I'm sorry," I whimper. "I have nothing to live for back home," I realize the darkness in my words. Conlan notices too, and asks for an explanation.

I explain the vision I experienced when I had the arrow in my head. I told him about Michael, who was my only friend back at home, and how I didn't really have anything to look forward to if I did make it out of here, because I lost all interest of becoming a game designer. If anything, I want to be as far away from AI's and NPC's as possible after all of this.

"Then why come with me?" He asks in a painful tone.

"So I can help you do what you were born to do." I let go of him, but I still have my eyes on his.

"And what will I do after you're gone?" He looks at me in fear of his words, as if the gates to Oblivion have been reopened.

_Did he just imply that he needs me in his life?_ What purpose do I serve him by being here, other than assisting him on his quests?

"Look," he sees my confusion. "About Metta and Smilla, they never had a mother. Their mother died in labor to Smilla, and Metta was only a year old at the time. I've been doing everything I can to take care of them. I've hired all the protection and luxuries I could get for them. I've joined every organization that offers payment in this damn nation for them. I can't do it alone."

That's a reason I can't argue with, but there had to be more to this. He could take in any woman in Skyrim and she would give the girls food and education. I practically admitted to him that I can't teach his girls about this world because I come from a different one.

_Conlan is lying to me._

"There's something else," I suggest. "You're hiding something from me."

Conlan stays silent.

"I'll ask you this; why do you really want me here?"

"Because that's all there is to it," he sighs. "I just want you."

Before I think about his statement, he continues. "I get lonely on jobs. I find other companions to be in the way of my mission. You're different. You've grown to be a strong woman. You're not only stronger, but you're braver. You're smarter. I've learned to find your face cute rather than annoying. Overall, you're definitely more attractive than when I first found you naked with matted hair in the woods outside Riften."

"Conlan..."

"That's another thing. Your voice is so unique. I feel like everyone in this world has the same damn voice. Yours is different. Yours is music. You're always worried about dirt and being cold, and it's so funny to watch you become paranoid over the smallest discomforts of life. It's funny that you try to eat your meat with bread and vegetables. It's funny that-"

"It's funny that I'm me?" I notify him that his words weren't coming to me so well. I didn't know if at this point I should take them as compliments or as insults.

He doesn't answer. I turn away, and try to lie back down, just like he wanted me to. The second my head touches the cold floor, I get my answer.

"It's funny, because I didn't think I could ever admire another woman again."

I didn't think he could even admire women; period. He's an NPC, he's only a digital person with digital thoughts and digital emotions. How he could have such complex human emotions was beyond me.

_Dammit Argus._

Give or take, this was him. I cannot change his programmed emotions. I feel myself shaking under the bedroll's thin blanket. Conlan spawns a warm light to appear next to him, and above me. I stare at the light, never seeing one other than on a TV or computer screen. I reach for it, until Conlan pulls my hand away.

Conlan lays behind me, and I could feel his hand on the outside of my thigh. I move it away from my leg. "I don't want affection now, after what happened back at that bandit fort," the thought alone makes me cringe.

"I understand," he voluntarily moves his hand away from me completely. "What ever you want," the light fades, and we're left in darkness.

"Is there another bedroll for you?" I ask Conlan.

"No. I only found this one," he confirms.

I begin to sit up, and Conlan assists me. "Get the hides and furs from the bag," I request. Without a response, he does what I say. I crouch over the bedroll, and unroll it to make it a flat blanket. Conlan returns, wary of my position, but still proceeds to help. I lay the hides flat on the stone floor, to make a spread large enough for two people.

"Do you mind if we share a poorly made bed tonight?" I ask shyly. I felt exceedingly nervous, but we both needed our sleep.

"That would be fine," a light smile warms his face. "I'm going to sleep in my armor. I have some clean and more comfortable robes in the bag if you need, unless you want to sleep in those rags."

"I think that's a good idea," I take his suggestion, recalling how these rags would've been more comfortable if they were made of hay or straw. "I'll be back."

I return to our sleeping space wearing black robes that were probably two sizes large on me. Conlan was already laying down, so I lay myself next to him. I take the bedroll, and pull it on top of us.

"Oh, so that's the purpose of this," Conlan says.

"Yes, because I'm going to waste a perfectly good bedroll so we can freeze in the night," I joke.

Conlan laughs, and I turn so I'm facing away from him. I feel Conlan's armor clinging, until I realize he's turned so he was facing my back. I could feel his breath on my head. I twitch, remembering the Elven chief.

"Forgive me," he pleads.

"Don't worry," I suggest. I didn't want to imply that what happened didn't matter, because Argus basically tried to rape me. It did matter, and they're getting into serious trouble once I'm out of here. "I'll be okay."

We eventually fell asleep, the humming nirnroots tucking us to bed.


	14. Chapter 13: I Know

_**A/N: **Here's another chapter for this weekend! Hope everyone have a lovely week and enjoys!_

* * *

The following morning, our slumber was disturbed when crackling fire was taunting our ears.

Shit!_ Fire!_

Being the first to wake up, I shoot frost at the flames behind Conlan's head.

"Conlan!" I scream, and he responds by bolting awake.

Realizing what was happening, he stares at me in udder shock.

"Summer!" He shouts at me. He was frantically looking in all directions for a solution. One he finds something, he points to something behind me, and my eyes follow his finger.

We both turn to the North; a group of mages with flames in their hands were taunting us.

"Burn them, boys!" One mage commands. Within seconds, fire was showering Conlan and I.

We both abandon camp, and run for the woods. The mages follow.

* * *

Without any armor, all I had was my magic. I was shooting ice at the mages, but they only shot fireballs in return. The most significant shot was flying toward my head, so fast I couldn't shoot back. Luckily Conlan saw it too; he pushes me out of the way, and casts a rune over us. The flames vanish, and we continue out pursuit.

After maybe ten minutes of constant running, I slow my pace down. Conlan, still in heavy armor, appears dissatisfied.

"Don't slow down," he insists. "We'll die!"

"I can't run that far," I respond. I don't think Conlan would understand what I mean when I tell him I have borderline diabetes.

Seeing my fatigue, he pulls me to a hollow log, and we hide inside. Conlan whistles, and then stays silent. I want to ask why the whistle was necessary, but it could give away our location.

Suddenly, hooves are heard, and mages are screaming. Then a deadly silence turns out to be more suspenseful than tranquil. The hooves become louder, and Conlan gestures for us to leave the log.

We do, and we encounter a black horse with glowing red eyes. His saddle is dark brown and made of velvet, with a black hand print painted on the side.

Shadowmere?

"Summer, this is Shadowmere. He's the most faithful steed in all of Nirn," Conlan boosts. I stare at Shadowmere in awe, and Conlan sees my reaction.

"Yes. His eyes glow red, and he kills hostiles."

"I'm familiar with Shadowmere," I inform him. Then Conlan's face flushes red.

"Do you know where I obtained him?" Conlan questions.

_Crap._

A fireball strikes the tree behind us, and bark crackles. Shadowmere neighs viciously, and four mages are running towards us. Conlan mounts the horse, and drags me up with him.

My limbs tremble because I have no experience with horseback riding. Unfortunately, my leg was rrembling so much it got shot from a mage afar. The flesh on my leg was cooking, and my blood was boiling. Screaming, I clasp onto Conlan as tight as I possibly can, and Shadowmere gallops, taking us away from the mages.

I attempt to shoot frost at my leg, until Conlan barks at me.

"It's more painful to have you leg freeze away than burn away."

I want to answer, but the pain was making it impossible for me to even udder a noise other than cries and groans.

* * *

Within an hour later, we were just north of Dawnstar.

"I need you to be able to keep a secret," Conlan pants, as he kicks Shadowmere's stomach.

"About time you spill the beans like I did," I mumble. He kicks at the horse again, also hitting my clean ankle. Something told me it wasn't accidental.

"Summer, this is serious," he insists. "If you can't keep this secret then I can't take you with me."

"Conlan, if I'm right, you're taking me to probably the most sinister _family_ that exists in Skyrim," I mutter.

Almost stopping the horse, he turns to face me in astonishment.

"You know?"

I raise an eyebrow. "I've joined almost every organization in Skyrim before all of this happened."

"You mean your world knows about..."

I sigh, and nod. "Nobody thinks anything of it."

"You live in a crazy world," Conlan huffs.

I couldn't say I disagree with him.


	15. Chapter 14: Welcome Home

_**A/N: **Sorry for the late update! I was busy all day yesterday and I slept in today. If there are mistakes, I apologize. I actually got Skyrim for the PC finally so I think we all know what the rest of my day will consist of. Enjoy this chapter, and see you guys next weekend!_

* * *

We have arrived at the Sanctuary just north of Dawnstar. Conlan jumps off Shadowmere, and carries me to the Black Door, which opens to the Dark Brotherhood headquarters.

"We can hide here until those mages decide to give up," Conlan faces me. I could see the fear in his eyes that no normal NPC would have.

_He doesn't trust me._

"I believe I already know what awaits inside," I whisper. "Just show me to my bed, and I won't disturb business."

Conlan still stares at me, until he sets me on the ground. Then, he turns his back to me, and approaches the Door.

The Black Door recognizes him, so it opens for him. He turns to me, "You can only enter if you know the password."

I nod, and the door slams shut. I stare up at it, and the Door hisses.

_"What is life's greatest allusion?"_

"Innocence, my brother."

_"Welcome home."_

The door opens, and I crawl inside. The door shuts behind me. Immediately I get dizzy, and I nearly faint from the sight of the skull on the table. I hear laughing, and Conlan approaches from the corner and smiles.

"Skulls are uncommon back at home?"

"Anything dead is uncommon unless its a bug," I nearly puke out my words. Conlan pick me up, and carries me around the corner and down the stairs, into a room with two wings and spider webs everywhere.

"Dead is common here," he reminds me.

"I'm aware," I inform him. "I've just never seen dead up close."

"If it helps, it's all an allusion created by your people," Conlan snickers.

He carries me through the hallway into the main Sanctuary. I couldn't help but to stare at another skull on a shelf. "I never thought my people would do such a good job at making it seem so realistic."

"Oh hush," Conlan shushes, as he's greeted by a familiar fool.

"Oh _Listener!"_ An Imperial jester bellows at Conlan, and begins to dance around the Night Mother's opened coffin. I quickly turn my head away, and can hear hushed voices that I attempt to block out. The sound of iron pushing against stone is heard, and Conlan taps my neck.

I look up, seeing that the coffin has been closed. I smile warmly at Conlan as thanks, and the jester approaches us.

"The Listener has a friend! The Listener has a friend! Is this friend more worthy to the Listener than Cicero is? _Hmmm?! Is she?!"_

I recall the mad man. Cicero, the mad jester in the Dark Brotherhood, is probably everyone's number one assassin, if not annoyance. He can either be enjoyable, or a pain in the ass.

"She can't be compared to you, Cicero. No one can," Conlan insists, causing Cicero to dance and clap.

"Ohh Listener! Thank you for your kindess! Your friend surely must admire it!" Cicero hops towards us, and stares at my burnt leg. He takes a hold of my hands, pulls me from Conlan's arms and attempts to dance with me.

I pull myself away, and fall backwards until Conlan catches me. I could feel my face heating up. "I'm sorry, Cicero. I can't dance."

"Sure you can! Only a man without legs cannot dance! You have two legs! Sure one is burnt, but you should be a marvelous dancer!"

"Cicero," Conlan explains. "She's wounded. Give her some time to rest. Then you may dance with her all you'd like."

"Oh, of course Listener! I hope Listener's friend becomes accustomed real soon, so we can dance together!" Cicero dances in circles, and I giggle.

Conlan carries me down a larger set of steps, and a Redguard in a red turban that frames his face notices us immediately.

"Well well, who do we have here?" Nazir is the man who has the heaviest American accent in Skyrim, but gives the Dragonborn all of his contracts. He smiles when he sees Conlan come in with an unfamiliar friend. "A new recruit?"

"Nazir, we have a special situation," Conlan urges him. Nazir raises an eyebrow, and eyes me. Conlan sits me in a chair, while the two men stand.

"Care to explain?"

"Recently, we were raided by bandits and hostile mages. The closest sanctuary was here, and anywhere else was too far for us to travel," Conlan looks down at me. I look up at him in return, then to Nazir.

"She can't stay unless she's a recruit," Nazir insists.

"Nazir," Conlan reaches for my hand that was under the table. He grasps is, the fingers of his gauntlet practically crushing my bare ones. "She's family."

_Dude._

"Ohh, I see," Nazir laughs. "Alright, she can stay. But tell me Listener, why wasn't I invited or even informed about the wedding?"

_God dammit._

"It was a private wedding," Conlan suggests.

"I see," Nazir trails off, and looks at me. "Why doesn't your wife tell me her name?" Both men face me, giving me my cue to speak.

"Summer," I want to say "like the season," but Kyraneth only knows if the seasons in Skyrim are named the same was the seasons on Earth.

"Well Summer, it's a pleasure to meet you," Nazir raises an eyebrow. "Have you ever killed someone before?"

I'm shocked by the question, and Conlan realizes this because my face most likely flushed white.

"Nazir..."

"It's okay, dear," I interrupt Conlan. "It's a simple question."

Conlan huffs, and Nazir waits for my response.


	16. Chapter 15: Good Luck

_**A/N: **I have band today! Won't be able to see the feedback on this chapter until late tonight! Everyone enjoy and have a great day!_

* * *

"I've never killed anybody," I confirm.

"Ha!" Nazir was practically shouting, "Would you like to learn?"

"No, thank you," I decline his generous offer, and Nazir chuckles.

"Innocence is only an allusion. Whether you admit it or not is up to you," Nazir suggests.

"Nazir, please stop," Conlan begs.

"My apologies, Listener," Nazir smiles.

"The Listener is back?!" A small voice calls from a room. Out of a doorway came a small girl with pale skin and glowing amber eyes.

She's a vampire, and her name is Babette.

"Who is this woman, Listener?"

"My wife," Conlan falsely introduces me, "Summer."

"Hello, Summer! How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen," I admit.

"So young!" Babette is astonished. Being centuries old, she does have a right to say that.

"I'm not a vampire, but even I must admit that's young," Nazir coughs.

Conlan and I stay silent. Conlan dismisses us to his bedroom, where we could talk in peace.

* * *

"You're _eighteen?!" _Conlan has to sit on the bed. He took off his armor and was in robes, running his fingers through his hair.

"Is that a problem?" I question.

"My girls are more than half your age!"

"How old are you then?"

Conlan pauses, pondering the question. "I... I don't know."

"I wonder why that is," I joke, realizing the cruelty of it. I just joked about Conlan's existence. I deserve to have my head off.

"Are you calling me a fool?!" Conlan rises from the bed, ready to punch a wall. "I didn't concieve my girls when I was ten!"

"You technically didn't conceive them at all," I mutter. Conlan heard me, and stared at me in astonishment.

"Your world has filled your head with cruelty. You might as well say their mother never existed!" Conlan howls. I didn't want to add that on, but he was probably right. All of his memories are just false data. He probably couldn't describe his wife if I asked him to.

"If I could show you I would," I insist.

"I don't want anyone to show me a world where my girls and I aren't even people."

"I guess you're right," I sigh, and take a seat at the table. Conlan approaches me, and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"If you do go back home, will I cease to exist?" Conlan questions. I turn to face him, and hesitate with an answer.

"No," I answer. "But you probably won't remember me."

Before I could turn away, I notice Conlan's face flushing red. He hugs me, for the first time without any armor.

"The chair is making this uncomfortable," I suggest.

Without a word, Conlan lets go of me, pulls me onto my feet from the chair, and embraces me again. This time, holding me tighter.

"I can't lose another person dear to me," he whimpers in my shoulder. I wouldn't know it was him talking if I didn't see him.

_He did not sound like Conlan._

_"No!"_

_"I can't lose another person dear to me!"_

_"Not after what happened to my brother!"_

_"No, Summer!"_

_"Wake up!"_

_"Please, Summer!"_

_"I can't lose another person dear to me!"_

"Michael," I breathe his name into Conlan's shoulder. Tears fill my eyes, and my throat and nostrils become clogged.

Conlan realizes my pain, and holds me tighter. We both sink to the floor.

"Summer, listen to me," Conlan begins. "I will not let you get hurt. However, I want to take your advice and fulfill my destiny as Dragonborn," Conlan waits for my response, but I give him nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement .

"Nobody knows about my title. Only you, the Greybeards, and the Jarl of Whiterun know my destiny," he pauses again, lifting my chin with the tips of his fingers so he could stare at my eyes.

"You need to be safe; I can't go save the world knowing you're a second closer to your death. I cannot risk that. I need you somewhere safe, and as of right now, this is the safest place you can be. You must stay here while I defeat Alduin."

"Conlan..." I mutter. I force out the only question on my mind. "How long until you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure," he lets go of me, and moves his hand to the back of my neck, where my hair barley touches his skin. "However, you know how this will all end. I know you do. You know what I'm going to be facing. You know if I will return or not. So I must ask you this; is leaving you for a little while to defeat Alduin truly worth it?"

My eyes water, and shut. I nod, knowing he will return in one piece. However, I couldn't be sure because the plot is capable of changing. Conlan holds me tighter, and places his mouth and nose on the top of my head.

"Then I will return to you, and we will live in peace," he whispers. I wish I could agree with him. After Alduin, he would have Miraak to deal with. "Would you like that?"

I nod, and choke out my words. "Yes, I really would."

"Then it's settled," Conlan smiles as he releases me. "I'll be off to defeat Alduin. Once I'm back, we can be together, and safe. You, me, and the girls."

I smile back at him, until I notice something wrong.

"Conlan, where's your mask?"

He lowers his upper eyelids, and without looking, reaches for his bag. He pulls out the mask, and holds it over his face.

"You'd be surprised how well I keep track of my belongings," he insists.

"Are you implying that you're a member of the Thieves Guild as well?"

He keeps the mask over his face, and lowers it. "You know too much," he says.

I raise my shoulders, "I do."

"Well, I'll be making sure Nazir and the others know the plan. I will ensure that they will protect you with their lives," Conlan reaches for his gear beside his bed, and puts on his main armor. I rush to him, and help him put it on. I tie the armor's sides, and his gauntlets.

"You're too kind," Conlan says.

"I know."

* * *

After the explanation to his fellow brothers and sisters, Conlan renters the bedroom to retrieve his belongings. He puts on the hood, and has the mask sitting on top of his head, revealing his face. He approaches me, and puts a hand on my hip.

"You know if I'll return or not," he sighs. "Don't you?"

I nod.

"Then you know if I'll be successful or not, am I right?"

Again, I nod.

We pause, until he embraces me. "If it's worth it like you said, I'd imply that you'd meant I would survive," he releases me, and stares at me without any expression. Maybe one of sympathy, if anything.

All I do is nod.

"Out of all the time I've known you, the day I set off to make history is the day you keep your mouth shut. Why is that?"

My face is pressurized and burning. My hands clutch into fists.

I break down.

Conlan lowers his head, and puts his hand in mine. He opens my fists, and places a gold necklace with a ruby in the center pendant.

"It's for good health," Conlan smiles. "In case, Mara forbid, anything happens." I hold up the necklace, and attempt to put it around my neck with my shaky hands. Noticing my struggle, Conlan takes the ends of the chain, and screws them together. The pendant hangs in the direct center of my upper chest, between my cleavage and my collarbone.

"I can't say goodbye," I whimper.

"And why not good luck?" Conlan questions.

"You make a fair point," I admit. Conlan smiles, and crosses his arms over his chest.

"So good luck it is?"

I smile. "Good luck, Dragonborn."


	17. Chapter 16: Extraterrestrial Contact

_**A/N: **I hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to leave feedback! Have a lovely week!_

**_NOTE:_**_ Due to a huge competition I have for band, I will **not** be posting a chapter next weekend. Thus, I hope you all have a fun and safe Halloween!_

* * *

Three weeks pass. I began my new temporary lifestyle of isolation in the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. I'm given meals by one of the initiates every morning, afternoon, and evening. I practiced my destruction in the practice room outside of the hallway, where the targets were set up. Sometimes I would have one of the initiates, who refused to reveal to me any form of name or identity for themselves, help me practice my blocking.

This evening, I received a platter of stew with potatoes and beef: probably one of the best meals I've been given during my time in Skyrim. Nazir enters my room only moments after I began eating. His face was one of anxiety. He has something important to tell me.

"Summer," Nazir begins. "There's been word going around Dawnstar that your loverboy, our Listener, has slain Alduin. Could this be true?"

Recalling that Conlan never mentioned his reason for leaving to Nazir, I didn't know how to answer. I sit and stare at him, hoping I would make a good "too shocked to say anything," face.

"You must be speechless," he hushes his voice. "I'm sorry," he leaves the room, shutting the door behind me.

_Wait._

_If Conlan defeated Alduin, then the main purpose of this game should be over, right? Right?!_

_Why am I still here? Is there more? Do I have to do the Dragonborn questline too?_

_What do I have to do?_

_Something can't be right._

I anxiously make me way to the bed after eating just mouthfuls of the stew. I lay in my black robes in fetal position, until the sound of hinges turning and ominous footsteps wakes me up.

"Nazir?" I whisper. I sit up, and equip frost spell and shield.

The sound of footsteps grows, but there is no answer. That is until a tall dark silhouette appears in the shadows in the corner of the room. On his back was a greatsword, and he worse come kind of robes. I attempt to cast a frost spell. My shield flies to the other side of the room. My spell vanishes, and my magicka drains.

"No," I gasp.

* * *

"You think you've even come close to winning?" The silhouette asks while standing in the shadows.

The male voice did not speak in a threatening tone. In fact, his tone seemed more a warning than a threat. I'm speechless. I've never seen an NPC able to disarm someone's _magicka._

The man continues. "This is an R.P.G. game. This game was not designed to be beaten. This game was designed so you will have an infinite amount of quests," he knows. He knows this world is just a simulation.

_He's from my world._

"Who are you?" I demand an answer.

"That is not important," the man insists. "What is important is that you don't get yourself killed. I'm going to find a way for you and your friend to get out of here."

"You mean Conlan?" I stupidly ask. He couldn't mean Conlan.

"He's only an NPC. Taking him into the real world? That's not possible," I remind him.

"He is not an NPC," the man says in a correcting tone. "He has the mind of an NPC; however, he is really a player who was trapped in Sword Art Online."

_"He is really a player who was trapped in Sword Art Online."_

The sentence repeats in my head. I eagerly listen to what this man has to say.

"He is, or was, an actual person who was manipulated by Argus to appear as an NPC. All of his skills and memories of his life in Skyrim are just data created into the mind of a person who's been trapped in Argus's hands for eight years now."

"But they said that all of the SAO survivors were awakened," I recall the news story that came out on CNN when I was ten, and how shattered Michael was that day.

"Yeah; all the people who had loved ones waiting for them to wake up," he states. "There are still a few that are trapped, and they are being used by Argus as human experiments to make games seem more realistic by creating NPC's that have more realistic and human-like thoughts and emotions."

"The friend you call Conlan- he was twelve when SAO was released," he continues. "We don't know exactly what happened, but we know Argus hired some engineers to hack into his Nerve Gear and alter all of his memories. He forgot all about his experiences in SAO, and whenever a new game was released, if Argus wanted to use him, he'd receive a new set of memories. We recently found him along with nearly a dozen other people in a secret lab within the U.S. Argus Headquarters. Every single person who contributed to the development of this game and other games featuring these human experiments is being sentenced to thirty years in prison."

"The problems we have now involve finding anyone who knew him. We don't even know his real name. The only information we have about him is that he was originally sent to a hospital in Virginia nearly hours after the game was released. The nurses who worked at his original hospital at the time say he was brought in by his father, who was originally going to play SAO, until his son got a hold of the Nerve Gear. Once he lost hope and thought his son wasn't going to wake up, he committed suicide. He has no other known relatives."

"I'm sorry this is so sudden, but it is my job to keep you informed. We have gained access to your game data, hence how I am communicating to you right now. I will come back from time to time to keep you updated."

"Who are you?" I beg.

The silhouette comes out from the shadowy corner, and appears to be a swordsman in black robes. He has ink black hair, and his greatsword suitably matches his hair and coat.

"You may call me Kirito."


	18. Chapter 17: Moving Forward

**_A/N: _**_I'm back! Today is my last competition for a while, so I'll be sure to catch up on this story. Hope you guys enjoy!_

* * *

As if someone had just unplugged a computer, the man called Kirito vanishes. Everything turns black. I can feel myself falling to my death. I'm screaming for help, until I hear someone shouting my name.

"Summer!" Babette was at the foot of the bed, and she was accompanied by a Dragon Prie...

_Conlan._

Without even thinking about my barley wounded leg, I bounce out of the bed and into Conlan's arms. He stumbles to the stone floor with me plopped on top of him. Babette quickly leaves to the other room, as she shushes people and gestures them away from the door. I feel Conlan wrap a heavy arm around me. He removes his mask, and I can see his dirty, bruised face.

"I knew you could do it," I weep into his chestplate.

* * *

Conlan is sitting at the table in the bedroom, while he empties his knapsack. I prepare two tankards of mead, and he doesn't stop me.

"You must have ran dry on mead after being gone for three weeks," I mention as I put his hankard on the table. Conlan's face flushes white.

"I'm sorry," he could sense my intent to ask where he has been. "I was put into Whiterun jail for a while. I released a dragon without the Jarl's permission."

"That's stupid," I comment. I almost didn't believe him, because that's not what happened when I played the game (the going to jail part. I do recall releasing a dragon in Whiterun). I didn't want to argue. Not now, at least.

"Your leg," he notices. "Has it recovered fully?"

"For the most part. Nothing more than some cuts and bruises," I verify.

"Good. I don't have to waste magicka on you," he jokes. I give him a look of annoyance. Grinning, he chugs his tankard, waiting for my response. I have no response, but a new conversation.

"I knew you would be able to defeat Alduin. That's the main destiny of the Dragonborn, or at least I thought," I pause, and Conlan raises an eyebrow in question.

"When I first came here, I was informed that the only way for me to go back home was to fulfill my duties in Skyrim. I assumed that maybe defeating Alduin would be my way to get home, since that's how you save the original version of this world. Then I found out you were Dragonborn. That fact changed everything. I thought maybe I had to wait for you to defeat Alduin. I did, and you successfully defeated him, but I'm still here. I can't go home," on the verge of having a meltdown, I pause. I look at Conlan for reassurance. He's just staring at me, waiting for me to continue.

"When I woke up screaming," I further explain, "I was having a vision. I'm sorry for being so panicky, but it was an awful way for the vision to cut off. I think it was a message from someone back at home trying to save me." I look at him, and he's still staring at me. Knowing that those eyes have been shut for 8 years irl makes my heart shatter.

"The person was a tall dark man named Kirito. He told me that there is no way to finish my duties here because I was designed to have infinite duties," I pause once again, receiving the same look from him, receiving the same pain in my chest.

"There's nothing I can do to escape this game. People from my world are trying to get me out," I hesitate to finish my statement, expecting an invalid dialogue notification. "And apparently, they're trying to find a way to get you out too."

"Both of us?" Conlan comments alarmingly. "You mean I have to leave?"

I nod, and he barks. "I never asked to leave my home! I can't leave my daughters behind! I can't-"

"Conlan!" I shout at him. He opens his mouth to continue, but I hold up a hand, and he stops. "They told me something about you," I begin. Before I can explain, an invalid dialogue notification appears. _Of course._

"What was that?" He questions.

"I'm unable to tell you," I mutter. "However, if you didn't believe me you'd think what they told me is false. If you did believe me, Skyrim would become insignificant to you."

Conlan opens his mouth to argue, until he realized that it would get us nowhere. "Why does your world have to be so difficult?"

"Because nobody can agree on anything," I suggest. Conlan laughs, besides the fact that this isn't a laughing matter.

"But why can you not tell me?" Conlan's tone softens up, as he stands up and approaches me.

"I can't explain," I answer as my heart rips. "I wish I could, but I cannot."

"That's alright," Conlan wraps an arm around my back, as my eyelids become heavier. I blink maybe a dozen times in one second, and he notices.

"You're an adorable specimen," Conlan smiles, causing his eyes to light up.

Hearing _that of all things _ after telling him he has to abandon his life in Skyrim, I give in. I wrap myself around him in his Dwarven armor, only hurting myself as I crush myself against his armor.

"Thank you," I murmur.

"It was just a compliment," Conlan sighs, as he places some unknown headpiece on my head. Letting go of my head, he gestures me to a bowl of water, which was the closest thing I was going to get to seeing my reflection in Skyrim. I see that my hair was still a pixie, but I appear much more healthful that when I first arrived here. I also took note in the silver circlet with blue stones resting on my forehead.

"Is that sapphire?" I question.

"Moonstone, actually," Conlan responds. "It's enchanted to give you more magicka. The Jarl of Whiterun gave it to me."

"That was kind of him," I smile. "And you don't want it?"

"No offense, but jewelry isn't my taste," he insists.

"I didn't like the jewelry they had back at home," I suggest. "However, this is much more appealing," I run my finger over the stones of the circlet.

"I've got something else for you," Conlan heads for the doorway, stops, and gestures me to follow.

"You don't have to get me so many gifts," I tell him as I follow him in the hallway.

"That's where you're wrong," he corrects me, as we enter the large practice room. Laying on a table, enchanted Stalhrim armor was emitting a gentle glow that calls my name.

"Conlan..." I lose my breath. "How did you get this?"

"People don't ask where somebody got their gifts," Conlan says as he approaches the armor. "The gift givers just tell the recipient what they need to know. All I'm telling you is that the enchantments increase your magicka and blocking skill."

I smile warmly, and resist hugging him. "Thank you," I blink slowly, and Conlan laughs.

"Get your new gear on, we're heading out."


	19. Chapter 18: Bottom of the Hill

Conlan and I left the sanctuary later that morning for Heljarchen Hall. We decided to walk instead of using Shadowmere, leaving us to carry all the souvenirs Conlan picked up while saving the world from Alduin. I argued that would be a terrible idea, saying my leg wasn't fully healed yet. Conlan healed my leg so I would stop arguing.

"The man you spoke to, how much does he know about me?" Conlan asks in concern.

"More than you know about yourself, I'm afraid to say," I tell him.

"Does it have to do with your home?"

"You mean the real wo-" I stop my air from uttering the word. "I-I'm sor-"

"If you're comfortable calling it the real world, that's fine. It's real to you, like how Skyrim is to me."

His words give me goose bumps. If he ever wakes up to find himself somewhere other than Skyrim, what would it be like?

Mother of god. This whole time I was curious as to how much change has occurred since I left. What wars ended? What wars began? Who is the new U.S. President? As for Conlan, he has to start from square one. Will he remember anything when he returns, or are his memories only lost when he's in Skyrim? Will he remember who his family is? Will he know what Skyrim is?

_Will he remember who I am?_

The thought makes me shiver. Conlan notices, and casts a warm light between us.

"Thank you."

"You don't have t-"

Conlan becomes a statue. His gaze is fixed on a cloud of black smoke smothering the air. Conlan's silence and short breaths became horrific.

Without a word, Conlan charges towards to cloud. I run after him, making more than an attempt to keep up with him.

* * *

I arrive shortly after Conlan, finding Heljarchen Hall burning to the ground. Burnt corpses lie in the snow, and the sound of weapons scratching and spells casting. Conlan was playing baseball with his battleaxe and the heads of the attackers, who're coincidentally still here.

I cast an ice spell, freezing the weaker hostiles: large black dogs and bandits. After assuming that they were all dead, I'm proven wrong when something stings me in the back, somehow penetrating my armor. I scream, and fall to the snow.

Realizing what's happened, Conlan rushes toward a pale man in black and grey tattered robes. The pale man had no weapon, but was using magic and his fist. Conlan raises an ebony sword at the man, only to be scratched in the arm. Conlan falls beside me, and the man tries to run away.

"Cover your ears," Conlan suggests. Unknowing of what he intends to do, I cover my ears with my fingers. Suddenly, the world shakes as the enemy, who was already halfway up the slope beside the property, is thrown to the top of the nearest mountainside, and disintegrates into dust.

Did Conlan just shout?!

Instead of taunting me with his innate ability, Conlan stands and lamely jogs around the perimeter of the property, as if it meant his life depended on it. After his first lap, he approaches me. His mask was off, and his face was a soggy snowberry.

He's crying.

"Conlan..." I wasn't expecting an answer, but I could barley move because of the sting in my back. He responds by staring at me in udder disappointment, and shock.

Having a breakdown, Conlan pulls me upright, and embraces me as tight as he possibly can. Now I realize what's wrong.

* * *

Later in the day, we left lavender and tundra cotton outside the western end of the property, where Metta and Smilla would play together when they weren't inside. Conlan was having meltdowns on and off as we gathered any significant weapons or pieces of armor that survived the fire. Amongst the items we found was the Spellbreaker, a shield that could act as a ward as well as a shield. Conlan said I could keep it, so I didn't feel now would be a good time to push away his gift. We also found a child's doll, which Conlan stuffed on the inside of his shoulder pad.

"We'll leave tonight for Whiterun," Conlan mutters. "I have a spare home there."

"Okay," I respond gently. Conlan walks away to where the stable once stood, and gathers the last of his items.

Today he lost his daughters, his best friend, his home, and nearly everything within. He lost it all to what appeared to be vampires, probably giving us vampirism. Conlan was feeling pain too, but the emotional pain was numbing the physical pain. That's how I felt when I woke up to find Michael dead. All the pain I felt later that day, it numbed me. It was nothing compared to the emotional pain I felt from Michael's death. I would lay in bed on a nightly basis for weeks, wishing I could have let him buy that last drink for me.

I failed to bring myself home, and I lost Michael. I have to get home. It's not an option to stay here.

_I'm taking Conlan with me._


	20. Chapter 19: Boiling Blood

A few days pass. Conlan was obviously still grieving over the loss of his daughters, best friend, and housemates. We moved into Breezehome, a small house in Whiterun. Conlan would spend most of his nights at the Bannered Mare, drinking mead until he would forget all of this misery. I can't say I blame him, but I can't say that drinking the pain away is the best option.

As for me, I spend my time in the house cleaning and learning how to cook. I've also decided to pick up alchemy, considering it's the safest skill I could learn in Skyrim, other than cooking. In fact, I've been working on making a potion of cure disease to heal Conlan and I of our illness.

Of course I'm aware there is an alchemy store in the marketplace, but Conlan tells me how the woman who ran the store left for her home in Cyrodill for unknown reasons. If I can't go out and kill dragons, then I can run the alchemy store. Besides, the only customer is the Dragonborn. Other than Conlan, my time would consist of me experimenting with ingredients and making them into potions.

That was the plan, until today.

"Summer!" Conlan's voice wakes me from another nightmare. Although his voice was more pleasant than the nightmare, it was of upmost concern.

"What's going on?" I yawn.

"Your skin," he hesitates, "it's as white as a Snow Elf's skin! And your eyes..." He begins to mutter so that I could barley hear him, "no, they're exactly what I feared." He becomes more audible, "They're like the Sun."

"Wait," I stop him from wasting his breath. I know exactly what he's fearing. I exit the house and enter the street of Whiterun, only to feel the beams of daylight cooking my blood. Before I could make a scene, I rush immediately back into the house.

_I have vampirism._

* * *

"How did I get it but not you?" I question Conlan.

"When those vampires attacked us, they scratched both of us. We should have both been contracted with the disease." he mentions.

"Is a cure disease potion too late for me?" I question him.

"Unfortunately," he sighs.

"Isn't there a man in Morthal I can see about this?"

"You mean that mage?" Conlan question. "He's not around anymore."

"What do you mean by that?"

Conlan hesitantly answers. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but my business with the Brotherhood forced me to take his life," his face flushes red.

If this was the real world, I'd be furious. "It's okay," I calmly sigh.

"No, it isn't."

"Conlan really, it's fine."

"The Dawnguard will target you! You're in great danger! Especially in this city," Conlan peers at the floor, searching the floorboards for a solution. "What if we settle in the Dawnstar Sanctuary together?"

"Conlan, no."

"The Ragged Flagon?"

"No..."

"Abandoned Goldenglow?"

"For Christ's sake, Conlan!"

"Who's Christ?"

I sigh, only getting a headache from this argument. I sit at the chair beside the fire in the center of the main room, and Conlan takes a seat in the chair next to me. After a long pause, Conlan finally takes action. He rises from the chair, and heads for the door.

"Where are you going?!" I demand and answer.

"To find out who did this," he snaps as the door slams behind him.

* * *

Within an hour, Conlan returns with a young Nord man. He was unfamiliar; I couldn't guess his name if I tried. Conlan throws the man onto the table where all of our food was laid out, and holds him down. I almost want to cast a rune on Conlan and give mercy to the Nord.

"Tell her why she's a vampire and I'm not!" Conlan demands as I rush out of the alchemy room. The man hesitates, until Conlan screams at him.

"I mixed a potion of cure disease into his tankard of mead," the man cries. "I recognized the early stages of vampirism on you, and I felt the Dragonborn's life was worth savi-"

"I ALREADY FULFILLED MY DESTINY!" Conlan booms, holding back a Shout. "She hasn't even figured hers out!"

"Well what good is a life if you have no destiny?"

"Why you little!"

Conlan punches the man's jaw out of place, causing blood to fly to the wall. He then throws the man to the floor, only inches from the fire. The man rushes out the door. Conlan turns to me, and unveils his face. He notices my obvious panic and hesitation in words.

"I'm sorry," he whines.

"Conla-"

"I've failed you like I failed Metta, Smilla, and Sven," Conlan's voice shakes. I slowly approach him, unknowing if he wanted any affection or not. Noticing my uncertainty, he gestures for me to come closer. With the affirmative, I hold the heartbroken Dragonborn as he sobs into my short hair.

"I know how you feel," I mutter.

Conlan continues to cry, until he gains enough strength to give a response. "You don't have three precious lives lost because of you."

I sigh.

"I actually have five."


	21. Chapter 20: Breaking Ice & Glass

_**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for reading, and I appreciate the reviews I've been receiving! This is the last chapter I'm posting this weekend. I hope you guys have enjoyed what you've read so far, and enjoy what you hopefully will read in the future. Have a lovely week!_

* * *

When I was four, my dad, uncle, aunt, grandparents and I were driving to Liverpool to see my cousin, who at the time, had an unsuccessful surgery done on his spine. On the way up there, the radio was on, and started playing the soundtrack to Star Wars Episode VII. That movie gave me nightmares the first time I saw it. I was screaming at my dad, who was the driver, to turn the radio off. He refused, and after constant pestering, he turned his eyes away from the road to smack me across the head. He didn't realize we swerved off the road and into a river at 75 kilometers per hour. I was the only one who survived the crash.

Four people died that day because I didn't want to listen to music. Michael committed suicide because I played a video game that would kill me. I took the lives of five precious people because of my ignorance.

"You were only four," Conlan consoles. "Your father shouldn't have turned his eyes away from the road if there was danger. I may not be able to comprehend the amount of damage that was caused, because I don't know exactly what a car is, but I have enough understanding to know that it wasn't your fault."

"I'm the reason he turned away from the road..."

"No. He's the reason he did it. He didn't have to-"

"But he did!" I shout as hot tears run down my cold cheeks. I cover my face with my hands, only to be held by the man in Dwarven armor.

"And I didn't have to save the world from Alduin," Conlan suggests.

"Yes you did," I argue weakly. "Otherwise we'd all be dead."

"Destroying Alduin wasn't enough to save my family," Conlan mumbles. He takes my hands, revealing my lifeless face. His hand lifts my chin, so he can get a better look. "We both were hurt in similar ways. We both caused involuntary destruction. We can get through this together," with hesitation, Conlan kisses my forehead. "I promise."

"I think we can agree on one thing," I suggest. Conlan stares at my eyes in grief. "We don't want another life to be added onto that count."

We only have each other at this point. Unless some miracle occurs in which Conlan finds his family and I find my mother, we have nobody to look forward to when we get back, other than each other.

Realizing this, Conlan holds me tight. I could feel moisture on my head, probably from his tears. I start to cry with him.

"Summer," Conlan's voice still shakes. "I'm ready to accept the fact that I'm leaving Skyrim. I need to go to the land you call the real world.."

"Wha-"

"I've fulfilled my destiny in Mundas, I'm ready to discover and fulfill my new destiny in the real world. I'm not going to be sent to another world, unless I have a reason to be there. I have a destiny there. That's why I have to go with you."

I stay silent, unknowing of how to respond. I pull myself away from his embrace, and look up at him. After I wipe my tears, I close my eyes, and lower my head when a smile forms from my lips. A large hand pulls up my chin. Barley opening my eyes, I find Conlan's face within an inch away from mine. Before my smile could fade away, Conlan's lips were kissing mine. My eyes close again, and stay shut for a long time.

When we finally stop, Conlan's hand was on my cheek. I was probably blushing through my immortally pale skin.

"Would now be a bad time to admit that that was my first kiss?" I question.

"No, but I can understand if you don't want to. I'd be ashamed too if my first kiss was to the most important person in a world different from my own," Conlan answers.

"I didn't mean it like that!"

Conlan smiles. "I was joking, Dovahkiin."

"I'm not the Dragonborn. You are," I correct him.

"I'm the new Dragonborn. You're the original Dragonborn, if I remember correctly from our old conversation." Conlan turns away, and approaches the table surrounded with food on the floor. His smile instantly drops to a frown, and he begins to clean up. I decide to help him. I stand up, and fetch a broom.

"Summer, no," Conlan stops me. "I made this mess, I'm going to clean it."

"Are you sure you don't want my help?"

"I'm positive," Conlan insists. "Could you make some stew or soup?"

"If that's what you'd like," I sigh as I begin to search for the ingredients for beef stew.

* * *

"The stew was amazing," Conlan comments as he rubs his stomach, which was no longer covered with armor, but with the fabric of his robes. "Is all the food back on Earth this delicious and ornate?"

I wanted to say yes, but then McDonald's came to mind. "Delicious, yes. Ornate, not completely."

Conlan raises an eyebrow. "There's a catch, isn't there?"

"Indeed there is," I agree, thinking of how cheap it is to buy good tasting shit food, and how expensive it is to buy good tasting quality food. I collect the wooden bowls, and place them in a water basin to soak. Conlan approaches me from behind, and puts his hands on my hips.

"Would you like to go to bed?" He questions.

I turn around and face him. He was obviously tired, plus that post food exhaustion must've been making his body craving for some rest.

"Sure," I yawn.

As we make our way up the ladder to the bedroom, a pull on the shoulder stops me. I turn around to find Conlan signaling for me to stop. I walk to the bottom of the stairs, and he steps in front of the ladder.. stairs... thingy.

"Wait here," he mouths. I nod, and he pulls out an ebony dagger. He sneaks up to the top of the stairs. When he turns the corner, yells and a fight erupt.

I equip a storm spell, until blood is seen dripping through the wooden ceiling. The house became silent.

_No._

"Summer?!" Conlan calls for me from the room above me.

_Thank you, Talos._

I run up the ladder to find Conlan with a huge cut on his arm, and a corpse lying at his feet. The corpse is wearing what appears to be the armor of the Dark Brotherhood, but more worn out.

"Some assassin that was upset about not being recruited, I guess," Conlan sighs, not even flinching as his blood drips down his hand and onto the floor, mixing with the blood of the dead assassin.

"A-A-Are you-u-u o-okay?" I couldn't speak without stuttering. The last thing I saw was Conlan looking at me in concern, before the world turned black.


	22. Chapter 21: Ready

_**A/N: **Hey everyone! I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it! I've rewritten the ending, and I'm really excited for that. I also plan to make a second series of this story. I don't want to talk to much about the end though._

_I'm sorry this chapter is short. The next one will only be a little longer, but it'll be better. I'm going to post a chapter on Tuesday afternoon because I'd like to post something before Thanksgiving, but I can't Wednesday cause it'll be my birthday, so I'm probably going to be busy._

_That concludes this ramble of an author's note. Have a lovely week, and enjoy!_

* * *

When I return to the world, I awoke in shock to not only find Conlan's arm completely healed, but also that Kirito didn't contact me. It was the first time I actually was unconscious in Skyrim without having any visions; not even a dream or nightmare haunted my mind. Go me.

"Th-The body?" I mutter.

"I moved it away so you wouldn't find it," Conlan states. "But that doesn't matter anymore."

"Of course it does," I gasp. "That guy probably has friends that are going to hunt us down, too."

"That's the point," he states. "I'm talking about the body itself. I shoved it in Lydia's room."

"Lydia?" I didn't know Lydia was here. I haven't seen her at all. "Where is she?"

Assuming I already knew who Lydia was, Conlan answers, "She's at Dragonsreach. I told her to wait there until we were settled in. She's going to take care of the place now, cause we're leaving."

_What._

"What? Why?"

"It's not safe here," Conlan admits. "I really thought it was, but truly it isn't. This is one of the safest cities in Skyrim, and here we have assassins on our tails. Not to mention your vampirism, you could be slaughtered by the Dawnguard if you were caught. We're going to have to live on the road."

"This is my fault," I puke my words.

"No, it's mine," Conlan reassures me. "I was the one who failed to protect you."

"I'm still alive," I argue. "As long as I'm alive, you did not fail."

"At least your vampirism keeps you resistant of diseases and poison," Conlan assures himself.

I smile with agreement, and Conlan warmly smiles in return. "All of our stuff is packed. We should probably head out."

"Now?"

"If not now, then when?"

"You make a fair point," I say, until I recall his exhaustion. "Are you rested?"

"I slept next to you for a few hours," Conlan blushes as he walks to the table that was holding our armor. Or at least my armor, which has been repaired since the vampire attack. Next to mine appeared to be dragon scales, and then I notice Conlan wasn't wearing any armor, just trousers.

"Is that dragonscale armor?" I question.

"I tell you I slept with you and your first response is about the armor on the table," Conlan huffs. "Yes, it is."

"Since when do you wear light armor?"

"I only wear heavy armor to fool attackers," Conlan suggests. "I'm actually better with light armor. I can move faster, and attacking is easier. However, it doesn't protect me as well."

"Would you mind me asking to see how it looks on you?" I ask shyly.

"I wouldn't mind at all," he gently smiles. As he undoes his trousers, I turn my face into the pillow of the bed.

"Summer, why are you turning away?" Conlan questions.

"I don't want to see your-" I don't finish the sentence, knowing he can figure it out.

Fortunately, he does. "Oh, right. I'm sorry. I'll tell you when I'm done."

"Thank you."

Moments later, Conlan gives me the all clear. I turn to find him in dragonscale armor, which was honestly more barbarian to see in person than on the TV screen and computer monitor.

"It looks marvelous," I gasp.

"I was looking for fierce," Conlan suggests, "but I'll take marvelous." His powerful voice never sounded so glamorous until now.


	23. Chapter 22: Change of Plan

**_A/N:_**_ Super short chapter today. Have a lovely day, and enjoy!_

* * *

_Conlan_

_If by some miracle you return to this cave where you left me, allow me to do two things: apologize for the insensitive remark I made, and explain._

_You are the diamond in the rough. Although my situation is one that would make my life simpler if it never occurred, I admit that I have no wishes that this situation never happened. Without it, I would have never had the joy of having you by my side. You've been the only good thing that has happened to me throughout this situation; you're certainly one of the greatest people I've ever encountered in my life. As of right now, you're all I have, no matter where I am or what situation I'm in; you're the only hope I have, and I blew it._

_I'm so sorry for what I said. I was stupid, and should have thought before speaking._

_I'm also sorry if this letter is illegible. I'm scribbling as fast as I can; I can hear people outside of the cave. Men looking to kill vampires._

_I am going to suffer the consequences._

_Again, I am truly sorry._

_-Summer_

* * *

_NO!_

_DAMMIT!_

The note was soaked in dried blood. On the floor lie small chunks of stalhrim.

_I'm too late!_

_Why am I so stupid?!_

_What made me think it was okay to walk out on her like that?!_

I look over the note once more.

_"Men.. .looking to kill vampires."_

There was a new faction of vampire hunters, according to rumors. They are known as the Dawnguard, and their base is in Southeast Skyrim.

_I'm getting Summer back._


	24. Chapter 23: The Hunt

_**A/N: **Here's the chapter I promised! I'm sorry they've been really short. I can't say they'll get any better though, because this story is slowly coming to an end. Not too soon, though. However, I've decided that I'm going to make a second series to this considering success this story has achieved._

_Enjoy this chapter, and have a Happy Thanksgiving!_

* * *

Once I arrive to this poorly hidden yet beautiful canyon, I meet some Nordic kid claiming he wants to join the Dawnguard. The kid doesn't even look tough enough for the orphanage.

I walked with him to Fort Dawnguard while ignoring his aimless conversation. Once we arrive to the actual fort, holy crap let me tell you how gigantic the place is! I'd bet a hundred septims it's bigger than Dragonsreach, and the man who owns it is making up for something else.

I enter the fort to find this said man in a silly looking brown cuirass. He calls himself Isran, and he hunts vampires like a bear hunts fox.

"Have you decided to join the Dawnguard?" he questions me.

Is he kidding? I'm here to hunt the Dawnguard and find Summer.

"Wait... I know you," he claims._ I swear if he used to be a city guard and knows of my criminal past I'm gonna-_

"You're Dragonborn!"

Oh. That's better.

"I prefer Conlan, but yeah. I'm Dragonborn."

"Well, we're glad to see that you've decided to help our cause," he converses.

"Actually, I was looking for your assistance," I propose.

"Ah, assistance in what, exactly?"

"I'm looking for a vampire. A woman. It is vital that I find her; however, I need her alive."

"How long do you want her alive for?"

"Until I'm done with her," I retort.

"Alright. We do have a torture room upstairs, we can contain her there an-"

"No," I stop him. "I need her in one piece."

"If you say so," Isran shrugs with disappointment. I swear it's like I took a sweetroll from an orphan. "Why do you need her?"

"She's got information I need," I explain. "I know that torture methods would get a word out of her, but they could be lies to get herself free. All I ask is that I speak to her myself."

"I guess we can do that for the man who saved us from the world eater," Isran nods. "Could you describe this woman?"

"She's a Nord. Small in height and weight. She's got short, reddish brown hair."

"Alright, we'll find her," he pauses, "as long as you can pay our price."

"How many bags?"

"Oh, we don't want gold," Isram states. "We want you to join our ranks."

* * *

My first mission was to a cave called Dimhollow Crypt. There're vampires here, apparently looking for something. Something significant. None, however, was the vampire I'm searching for.

Nothing really got my suspicions of Summer's whereabouts until I reached a stone balcony. The balcony overlooked a platform with geometric arches, and the floor was lit up with magenta flames and rays.

"I can't believe it; we came too late!" One man was raging. "Who else could've known of the target's location?!"

Gee I don't know, maybe someone who supposedly knows the fates and whereabouts of _every single place, person, and thing in Skyrim._

Maybe it's time I test my patience. I sit in a corner, and guzzle down an invisibility potion. I sit there, and occasionally guzzling down invisibility potions, until the group of vampires (and their hostage vigilant) make their was out of the crypt.

I explore only to find rubble in the surrounding landscape. The strangest thing was that the rubble was in the shape of... giant bat monkeys? I'd say they were statues if their positions weren't so damn unique from one another.

_Shattered statues won't help me find Summer._

I go to the center of the arches. I approach a pentagonal prism, which was standing tall above the floor. Two of the five sides were opened, where the supposed target used to rest.

Summer must have taken it. Who else could know of it's whereabouts?

_But why here? Why now? Why this target?_

I guess as a vampire, she's stealing all the treasures other vampires desire.

_She must be doing it for a reason._

Maybe she's trying to send me a signal that she's okay? That'd make sense. Maybe these vampires are up to something no good, and she's trying to help the Dawnguard stop them?

Nah. She isn't that clever. She has other things to worry about, surely.

Wait. What if these vampires really are up to no good, and Isran isn't overreacting?

_I've got to find their headquarters.._

_The vampires' headquarters._


	25. Chapter 24: The Reunion

_**A/N:** I'm done apologizing for short chapters because they're all gonna be this short for the rest of the story. However, I must apologize for not posting last weekend. I recently got ESO and let me tell you it's quite a time consuming game (add that up with school, clubs, and volunteering v.v) Well, hope you guys enjoy this chapter and the one to follow!_

* * *

Without the help of the Dawnguard, I've located the base of a local vampire clan called Volkihar. They're supposedly not to be the kindest of folk, but one was nice enough to admit to me their whereabouts after some minor intimidations.

I've headed northwest of Solitude to find a lone dock, and a castle that stood as great as my ego, as Summer would say, in the distance. Instead of being the idiot and taking the boat, I swim.

I arrived to the island, only to be shunned by guards.

"Who are you? Why are you on this island?" The gatekeeper asks.

"I'm here to join you guys," I lie.

The gate keeper can't help but to laugh. "Are you kidding? You can't just join-"

"It's okay, Watchman!" A woman calls. Muttering curses, the Watchman opens the gate to let me in. I enter to find a woman in the same clothing that the vampires who burnt down my house wore.

"How can I be of assistance?" the woman asks. She has shoulder length brown hair, but a complexion as fair as Summer's.

"You wouldn't be willing to give away the locations of a fellow vampire by any chance, would you?"

"Um-" the woman begins to respond, until a booming male voice shuns her.

"Who is this mortal you are conversing with, daughter?!"

Great. She lives with her parents.

"My father wouldn't be willing to grant you that favor," the woman pushes me to the door. "You should leave."

"Not until you tell me where the vampire named Summer is," I demand.

The woman's eyes widen, and her jaw lowers.

"Wait here," she hushes as she pushes me back outside. I obey as she leaves to hopefully fetch her whereabouts, or even Summer herself.

The door creaks open, and the woman leaves the castle, followed by the damsel in distress herself.

"I didn't come here to get away from you I sw-"

Having no patience for unnecessary apologies, I pull her into my arms and kiss her mouth shut. Her arms wrap around the back of my neck, in a soothing, non vampiric way.

"We need to talk."


	26. Chapter 25: Planning Hour

_**A/N: **Here's the next chapter! It's going to be tough trying tp fit the next few chapters in because I had to rewrite everything. I hope this is substantial! Enjoy, and have a great week!_

* * *

"I came here because they threatened my life," Summer explains. "They told me to find you Serana, otherwise they'd kill me."

"It's alright, really," Serana admits. "Freeing me form that crypt was not that terrible a thing to do. I'd do the same thing if I was in your situation. Besides, there are worse things going on around here."

"They can't be worse than the Dawnguard raiding your bundle of a home, here," I comment.

"Not unless you stay to help me," Serana suggests. "I'm not suggesting you fight off the Dawnguard, but there is a great threat among us."

"I've destroyed the greatest threat in Tamriel," I contribute.

"I'm talking about the greatest threat to Nirn, maybe even Mundas," Serana states.

I turn to Summer, hoping that she had any familiarity of this supposed threat. Seeing my concern, she takes action.

"Serana, give us a minute," she calmly requests.

Serana nods, and Summer takes me to the bottom of the slope where a small dock held a lone boat, similar to the one across the water.

* * *

"Her words," I ask once we're far enough away, "are they true? Do you know anything about this?"

Summer sighs, and her face lowers to the floor.

"They are. I can explain everything we need to do," she suggests.

I nod, and she begins her explanation.

"Her father is what is a vampire lord. They are vampires that should be the most feared, simply because they obtain power that is stronger than even regular vampires. Everyone in this palace with vampiric blood practically is one, and I'm supposed to be turned into one as well."

"This vampire lord, Lord Harkon, discovered a prophecy that will allow him to black out the sun, so vampires will never have to fear sunlight again. This allows them to have constant prey to feed on. He will need Auriel's bow and his daughter's blood to fulfill the prophecy."

"What do you mean you're supposed to be turned into one?" I gasp.

"Did you listen to anything I was saying?"

"Yes Summer. I want you to answer my question before I continue," I take her hands, and squeeze them. "Please."

Summer sighs. "He said I either have to accept his blessing as a vampire lord, or I am banished from this place."

"What's the matter with being banished?"

"I will have to go back to the Dawnguard," she states. "They told me if I could find out what the vampires were looking for, they would release me and suggest that I never return to their fort again."

"And if you don't return to the Darwguard?"

"They'll hunt me down," she claims. "Even if it's a petty threat, I don't want to take the chance."

"I understand," I say. My heart's weight doubles.

"What if I told you I was with the Dawnguard?"

Summer turns to me as if I just compared her to a troll. Arms of guilt were strangling me as I wait for an answer.

"I should have expected that," she claims. Then, after a moment, her face suddenly lit up. She turns to me with a huge smile.

"If that's the case, I've got a plan."


End file.
